Power, Passion, Enlightenment
by jane0904
Summary: Following Power and Passion. A multichapter tale, post BDM. The story of Mal and Freya, and their bumpy road to possible happiness. Final chapter now up. Please review if you read and like, as they make my day!
1. Power: Part I

A bar, like a thousand others. Music is playing in the background, and various nefarious types are lounging at the bar or sitting at tables. The atmosphere suggested a fight may break out at any time, but this is not unusual. Our nefarious types are sitting at a table in the back, watching all the newcomers.

"I seem to do nothin' but wait around in places like this," Jayne grumbled.

"It was my recollection that you seemed homely in places like this." Mal finished his beer and put the mug on the table.

"I am. It's the waitin' that makes me nervous. Been too many lately where nothin's come of it."

"Well, this is a good bet. He's not let us down before."

"Always a first time."

Attempting to relieve the dampener Jayne was trying to put on things, Freya picked up the jug to refill her mug, but found it wanting. "I'll get a refill." She stood up and headed to the bar. She heard the conversation continue behind her, and half-smiled. Mal was in a good mood, with the first decent prospect of a job on the horizon for weeks, and he wasn't letting Jayne get him down. She reached the bar and held out the jug. The barman took it and began to pour. The vidscreen above was showing something from the Cortex, as usual, and it caught Freya's attention for a moment, then she looked harder. As the barman put the jug on the bar, slopping some of the contents, Freya asked, "What date is it?"

The barman looked at her, bored out of his skull. "April 9th."

She smiled. "In which case –"

Back at the table Zoe was berating Jayne. "I don't know about you, but I like getting paid once in a while."

"So do I. It's just –"

"You going through the change?" Mal asked, grinning widely.

Jayne looked shocked. "Am not!"

"Boys, boys." Freya had got back to the table, a tray in her hands. "No fighting. Not yet." She put the tray down in the centre of the grubby wood, and stood back. Everyone stared suspiciously at the glasses containing a brown liquid clustered together.

"And what is the occasion?" Mal asked.

"It's my birthday!" The others exchanged amazed looks. As she sat back down, Freya said, "As I've missed the last three … no, four … I thought we should celebrate."

"Missed?"

"You know, either in space, or planetside with a different calendar. But today is my birthday. At least here, and according to the Cortex. So come on." She picked up a glass. "Happy birthday to me!"

They all lifted a glass and wished Freya a happy birthday in bad unison, then chugged back. There was a stunned silence as the alcohol hit their throats.

"Oh, god," Freya managed to say. "That'll put hair on your chest."

"Freya, darlin', next time you decide to buy us all a drink, could it be somethin' that won't make us go blind?" Mal asked, his eyes streaming slightly.

Only Jayne seemed unaffected. He ran a finger around the inside of the glass and sucked it appreciatively. "So how old does this make you?"

Freya opened her mouth, but Zoe got there first. "A gentleman don't ask a lady her age."

"Well, I'm no gentleman, so it's good she ain't no lady."

Mal spoke warningly. "Jayne."

Freya held up a hand. "No, it's all right, Mal. As it's my birthday, I won't rip his arm off and beat him senseless with the wet end." She turned to glare at Jayne. "Tomorrow, on the other hand …"

Jayne just grinned back, not afraid of her at all. "So how old are you?"

"Amazing how fast a day goes, ain't it?"

Jayne laughed.

"I think that makes it your round," Mal said.

"No ruttin' way," Jayne growled. "It's the doc's."

"Jayne –" Zoe said.

"No, please, that's fine," Simon interrupted. "Not sure I could face Jayne getting tearful." He stood up and walked to the bar.

The fight that began was sudden, and no-one could ever be sure what had started it. But it erupted at the bar, and spilled quickly over into the rest of the room. A man crashed onto the table in front of Mal, upending the remains of the jugs all over Jayne, who got to his feet with a roar. He charged into the melee. Mal, who had stood up quickly to avoid getting wet, was grabbed by the front of his shirt and pulled towards the centre of the room. Not being too pleased with this, he let go a powerhouse which connected with his assailant's jaw. After that, it just got confusing.

Then it was over. The initial fighters limped out of the bar, and those who had been assaulted began to count their wounds.

Freya, sucking her knuckles, laughed. "Hell of a way to enjoy a birthday," she said. She looked down to where Simon was sitting on the floor against the bar, looking as if he had gone down in the first wave. "You okay?" she asked, then knelt quickly beside him. He was breathing, but his eyes were staring blankly. "Mal!" she said sharply.

He turned, looked down. "Jayne," he ordered, and between them they picked the young doctor up.

"Wait." Freya moved Simon's shirt collar. "_Tzao gao_." Something was attached to his neck, something metallic.

"What's that?" Jayne asked.

"Infirmary – now." Mal ordered.

---

"Captain, what's – Simon!" Kaylee rushed into the infirmary, but Zoe caught her arm and held her back.

"We're looking to him," she said gently.

"What happened?"

"Bar fight. But it looks like Simon's been hit by something."

"A bullet?" Kaylee looked around the others but couldn't see any blood.

"No – not a bullet."

Mal had undone Simon's shirt so that he could see the metal embedded in Simon's neck more clearly. He tested it with his fingertips, but it seemed firm. "Skin's hot to the touch around it," he said quietly.

Freya pulled a scanner over the area. "Damn. Don't touch it again."

"What? Why?"

"Look." She moved the scanner a little so he could see the display. "Whatever that is, it's linked directly into his neural nodes. If we try and remove it, without knowing exactly what it's doing, we could kill him."

"No!" Kaylee screamed.

"Get her out of here," Mal ordered, and Zoe pulled the girl out of the infirmary. He looked up at Freya. "Some kind of device?"

Freya nodded, then shrugged. "For all I know it could be a bomb."

Jayne took a step backward. "Mighty small to be a bomb."

"Big enough to kill Simon."

"And you don't think we should try and remove it?" Mal asked.

"Well, you can if you want. I'll watch. From outside." Her irony was not lost on him.

"That isn't helping."

"Mal, none of us is skilled enough to remove it. It would take a surgeon … someone of Simon's calibre … to be able to get it out of him. And as he's the patient …"

"Then we have to get to a medical facility." He glanced down again at Simon. "Get to the bridge. We need to be out of atmo in two minutes."

"Where were you thinking?"

"We passed one a few hours back …"

"Oh, that's bad," Freya whispered.

"Do you think the local medical facilities can handle this?" Mal asked, pointing to the metal object.

Freya looked into his blue eyes, hard in this light. "No."

"Then I don't see we have any choice at all."

"I'm on it," Freya agreed. She turned and headed out of the infirmary, passing Zoe on the way and saying, "Close up, will you?" Zoe nodded and hurried out.

Kaylee touched Freya on the arm and she paused. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Captain's working on it, _xiao mei-mei_." She ran through the cargo bay and up the metal stairs to the bridge. Settling quickly into the pilot's chair she began the ignition sequence, and Serenity purred into life.

"You want we should try and cut it out now she's gone?" Jayne asked, sliding his knife half-way from its sheath.

Mal shook his head. "Put it away. Freya's right – we'd kill him."

"Solve the problem though, wouldn't it?"

Mal shot him a sharp look, and Jayne backed down.

---

"We're tight," Zoe said over the intercom.

"Leaving the world now." Freya pulled back on the column, at the same time pushing forward on the thrusters, and Serenity lifted off smoothly, her landing gear retracting into her belly. Gaining height rapidly, the sky turned dark, and stars filled the window. Freya ran a swift sweep, picking up the destination without a problem. She took the com link down and pressed the button. "Mal, the Davenport is under two hours away."

"Set a course," Mal ordered.

"Already done. How's Simon?"

"The same. He's … "

The sound of metal hitting the floor came over the intercom, and Freya could hear shouting but was unable to make out any words. The link went dead.

"Mal?" she asked, thumbing the switch, but there was no response. Setting the autopilot, she got up from the chair and headed back towards the infirmary.

As she stepped over the sill, something hit her on the side of the face, pushing her forcefully into the wall. Feeling as if she had no control, she felt herself rebound, and she began to fall.

Mal, wrestling the door from the kitchen open, saw Simon hit Freya on the chin, and she collapsed down the stairs. "Frey!" he shouted and ran along the corridor, watching the young doctor close and lock the door to the bridge from the inside.

Freya groaned and tried to sit up. "I'm okay," she said, seeing the mixture of anger and concern on Mal's face through the red mist in her vision as he leaned over her. "Who the hell …"

"Simon." Pretty much assured Freya was, more or less, okay, he ran up the stairs to the bridge door, but it was locked tight. "Jayne – get to the other entrance!" he called.

"Simon?" Freya repeated, feeling as if her head were full of cotton wool. "He's awake?"

"Not sure I'd say that," Mal said, still trying to force the door. "He came to, attacked us and ran up here."

Freya got slowly to her feet, holding onto the wall for support. "Did he hit me?"

"He did that." Mal gave up on the door, and Zoe called from below.

"Jayne says that one's locked too."

"Okay – get the torch."

Freya felt her jaw. Not broken, but her teeth had lacerated the inside of her mouth, and blood was seeping from the corner of her lips. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

"You sure you're okay?" Mal asked, stepping down and standing close.

"I don't think anything's broken," Freya said, then winced as she tried to stand up straight. "I'm bruised, though."

"What's going on?" Inara asked, coming up behind them.

"Simon went crazy. He's locked himself on the bridge," Kaylee said tearfully.

"Not for long." Jayne manhandled an equipment bag up the stairs and went to work on the door with the torch, making short work of the lock. As he stripped the goggles from his eyes Mal stepped through onto the bridge.

Simon was sitting in the pilot's chair, staring out into the black. Freya touched him briefly on the neck. "He's back to being catatonic."

"Cata-what?" Jayne asked.

Mal was trying the controls, but they weren't responding. "Frey."

She joined him, trying various combinations. "We're locked out but good," she confirmed, looking into Mal's serious face.

"Simon doesn't fly, does he?" Zoe asked.

"No. River does, but – "

Mal interrupted. "Then I think I know what that gizmo does. And I am seriously not liking the look of this." He spoke directly to Freya. "Can you figure out where we're heading at least? Wouldn't want to run into a moon or anything."

"You shoulda let me cut that thing outa him," Jayne said darkly.

"Jayne." Mal didn't elaborate. He didn't have to.

Freya pushed a few buttons, flicked some switches. "Well, we're not headed for the Davenport any longer, that's for sure. Give me a minute." She looked up. "Say, where _is_ River?"

"I was beginning to wonder that very same thing my own self." Mal turned. "Zoe, go check on her. She should have been the first to appear."

"Yes sir." She headed off towards the young girl's quarters.

"I don't get it," Jayne said. "If he wanted to kill us, why not just open the cargo doors? We'd be suckin' space by now."

"Well, that doesn't appear to be his intention." Mal looked at Simon, sitting so calm. "Think he can hear us?" he asked Freya, who shrugged.

"Possibly. He may even know what's going on – just can't do anything about it. You think it's controlling him?"

"Can't think of anything other reason. I doubt he'd take it into his head to try and fly otherwise. You figured out where we're headed yet?"

"Nearly. He's done a job on – "

"Captain." It was Zoe on the intercom, noise going on behind her.

"Yep."

"River's in much the same state as her brother. Only if you touch her, she screams."

"That the noise?"

"Yes sir."

"Is she safe? Won't hurt herself?"

"Or us," Jayne muttered darkly.

"She's curled up on her bed. I couldn't say if she was a danger to anyone else, sir."

"Okay. Come back up." Mal closed the link, then turned as Freya cursed softly. "What? What is it?"

"I know where we're going. I recognise the co-ordinates." She pushed her hands through her short hair, a sure indication she was disturbed.

"Is it bad?"

Freya laughed mirthlessly. "Oh, it is so not good."

"Well?"

"It's a private moon, owned by a man called Maice. Edwin Maice."

"I'm taking it he's not exactly a friend. Psychotic?"

"That would be insulting all the psychos we know. No, he's worse. He … plays games."

"Games? Don't sound too bad," Jayne put in.

"We did some work for him a while back. Transporting some goods. First trip, fine. Second … well, by the time we managed to get away, two of my crew were dead."

"Oh, those kind of games," Mal said quietly.

"He's insane – takes pleasure in making people kill each other to live, end enjoys every moment. And he's rich enough so no-one stops him."

"So why us? Why Serenity?" Inara asked.

"I can only assume it's because he found out I was on board, and we're close enough for his gadget to work."

"How close?" Mal demanded.

Freya's eyes were bleak. "Couple of hours. No more."

"Can you fix this by then?" Mal asked urgently.

"Even with Kaylee's help I don't know." She stepped closer, dropping her voice. "Mal, you have to get everyone off the ship. Use the shuttles, get them away."

"Shuttles are short-range. Any suggestion as to what I do when their power runs out?"

Freya indicated the control console. "From what I can see Serenity's locked into this trajectory. But when she lands that command string is complete. Maybe I can add an extra line or two."

"Can I have that in captain dummy talk?"

"We land, couple of minutes later my adjustment kicks in and Serenity takes off again to rendezvous with the shuttles."

"Why not do that anyway? Why put everyone off first?"

"Can you guarantee Simon won't just blow the hatches?" she countered.

"Then we sedate him."

Freya shook her head. "I don't know if that would even work, and it might kill him."

"Solve our problem, though," Jayne said.

Mal ignored him this time, having fastened on something Freya had said. "Why a couple of minutes? Between landing and taking off."

"Because that'll give me enough time to get off."

Mal's head went up. "No."

"If it is me he's after then maybe he'll leave the rest of you to go."

"I said no."

"Mal –" Freya protested.

"Decision's been made." He turned to Zoe. "Get the shuttles prepped. You'll take one, Inara the other."

"Sir?"

"I'll be staying with Freya."

"Sir –"

"No discussion. Prep the shuttles."

---

"Won't they pick up the launch?" Inara asked as they hurried through the cargo bay, her arm around River, who had, at least, stopped screaming. "If we're that close …"

"There's another moon more or less between us and Maice," Freya explained. "If you launch while we're still behind it, they shouldn't detect anything." She headed for the bridge.

"Come on, time's a-wasting," Mal, carrying Simon up the stairs with Jayne, called. "You've only got a few minutes." They stepped into Inara's shuttle and dumped Simon on Inara's bed. "Go," Mal said to the big man. "Get the other shuttle away."

Jayne nodded and ran out.

"Keep him tied up, Inara," Mal said, checking the knots. "Don't want him trying to cause more problems."

"I don't see why you're staying with Serenity at all – either of you." Inara began the start-up sequence but looked back at him over her shoulder. "If Freya can get the ship to take off again, why not just do that? We can be picked up and go on our way."

"That won't help Simon, now, would it?" Mal smiled sadly. "Even Alliance medics may not be able to remove that – thing – without killing him, specially if it's still active."

"You're going to try and kill that man, though, aren't you?"

"I think that may be the only solution. And I'm intending just to be around to hold Freya's coat."

"Shuttle launch in thirty seconds," Freya's voice came over the com.

"Don't worry," Mal said, squeezing Inara's arm. "You'll be back home soon enough."

He left quickly before Inara could respond.

"Launch in five, four, three, two, one." Freya, sitting in the pilot's chair, felt the vibration through Serenity that signalled her shuttles separating, and she watched the rear vid, catching sight of both smaller ships dropping behind.

"Do you think anyone saw?" Mal said, stepping onto the bridge.

"I don't think so. We were still in the shade." She looked out of the window, adding,"Enlighten me. Why those combinations? I'd have thought you'd put Jayne or Zoe in with Inara."

Mal looked at her, his arms folded in his usual stance. "Would you trust Jayne? The way he's been going on about Simon? And I ask this as someone who knows you keep your cash on you at all times."

Freya smiled. "Trust Jayne? Not unless I was the one who was catatonic, so point taken. But what about Zoe?"

"She'll keep Jayne in line. Just in case he takes it into his head to change shuttles."

"You should have gone with them," she said quietly.

"Don't want my scintillating wit and sparkling conversation?" He raised his eyebrows.

She smiled at him. "I'd rather have you safe."

"Hey, me too!" He laughed. "But you're going to try and kill Maice, aren't you?"

"That was the general intention, yes."

"Then you might need some help."

"I have to admit I'm glad you're here."

"Yeah, me too." He touched her cheek gently, feeling her flinch every so slightly as her cut mouth rubbed on her teeth. "So is your little amendment to Simon's programme all set?"

"All set."

"Then I got just one small suggestion to make …"

---

Serenity touched down gently on the surface of the scarred moon, dusty and worn, without a tree or bush in sight to relieve the monotony. Only the huge blocks and slabs of yellow stone scattered over the land gave any respite. Oh, that and the compound set securely into its surface.

After a minute the door in the cargo bay hatch opened, and Mal looked out.

"Nice place," he said, stepping down to the surface

Freya followed, closing the door behind her. "It's been mined out. Killed everything on it."

"Seems to have that kind of reputation, certainly."

They walked away from Serenity, heading towards the compound. A minute later and they turned to watch the ship take off, her landing gear retracting smoothly.

"I hate to watch it leave," Freya commented, feeling a little as if someone had just walked over her grave.

"I know what you mean." He smiled at her and started walking again. She ran a little to catch up, and they continued in companionable silence

That is, until someone shot Freya. She went down without a sound, falling into the dirt in a heap. Mal whipped his gun from his holster but fell forward, a dart in his neck.

---

"Any sign of Serenity?" Zoe asked, looking at Inara on the vidscreen.

"Can't be long. Unless something went wrong."

"With the Captain's plan?" The irony in Zoe's voice came across loud and clear.

"I'm not saying a word," Inara laughed.

"Hey," Jayne said, leaning over the chair. "Is that her?"

Zoe looked out. "Serenity coming in," she agreed. "I'll take this shuttle in first, make sure everything's okay. Don't want to have any unexpected guests, do we?"

"Of course. Give me the signal when you're happy." Inara signed off.

Zoe waited until Serenity's retros fired and she swung to a halt before moving the shuttle smoothly into position over the left hand side. Then, with extreme care and not a little skill, she settled the shuttle into position, and the autolock pulled the small craft into place.

Jayne and Zoe boarded the ship, and between them checked the other decks. No-one hiding – in fact no-one at all.

Zoe, checking the bridge last of all, took down the comlink. "Inara? Okay to dock – we're all clear." There was no response, only sub-space static. "Inara?" Suddenly aware of a creeping sensation down her spine, like someone was taking a bead on her through a scope, she hit the button to power the rear vid.

"Jayne!" she called.

"What?" He stuck his head into the cockpit.

"Something's wrong. Inara's shuttle just took off back towards that moon." In the rear vid the image of the shuttle was getting smaller. "Inara!" Zoe's voice was urgent, but there was still no reply.

"We'd better get after her," Jayne said, shouldering Vera.

Zoe sat down, trying to get Serenity back on line.

"What's up?" the mercenary asked.

"She's locked out." Zoe's brow furrowed. "I thought Freya was supposed – Jayne, get to the shuttle. Get after Inara and try to stop her before they come out of the lee of the moon."

Jayne nodded and ran off the bridge.

"Kaylee, get up here now," Zoe said into the com.

A few moments later Kaylee appeared at the door. "Zoe?"

"We're still locked out. Can you do anything?"

Kaylee nodded, but was interrupted by Jayne on the com. "Zoe, shuttle won't launch. Locked up tight."

Kaylee and Zoe exchanged glances. "Freya," the older woman said.


	2. Power: Part II

Freya hurt. Her whole body ached, starting from a point about a foot above her head and extending out to an area about the size of Serenity's cargo bay. She groaned slightly, and forced her eyes open. Sand. Yellow and gritty. Great. She seemed to be lying on a beach. Now, if only there was a cool blue ocean just a few steps away …

She lifted her head, and realised she was inside somewhere she recognised all too well. "_Gos se_."

"Miss Nordstrom. How nice to see you again."

Freya got shakily to her feet and looked around. "Wish I could say the same."

She stood in the centre of an arena, built from blocks of the yellow stone. About thirty yards across, the perimeter was a wall about fifteen feet high, with a much smaller, knee high wall six feet inside that. Guards stood at intervals between the two. In front of Freya, though, was a raised dais, surrounded by rich brocades, with a chair that could only be described as a throne on it. A man sat there, leaning back and studying her intently, a smile playing around his lips. He was in early middle age, and might once have been described as handsome, but his appetites had outgrown his body.

Freya, aware that her gunbelt and knife sheath had been taken off her, tried to move forward, but an odd sensation stopped her. She lifted a hand and pushed slowly, encountering a field that flashed green and stung like a thousand bees. She stepped back quickly, trying to shake the pain from her hand. "This is new," she said.

"Yes. I've made quite a few improvements since you were here last. Just out of interest, how _did_ you get away?" Edwin Maice leaned forward.

"Magic." Freya glared insolently at him.

"You won't be quite so flippant soon enough," Maice said, waving a hand in dismissal. "So waste your time on your witticisms now." He took a small box from his waistcoat pocket and pressed a sequence of buttons. He pointed over to the far side of the arena, to where a break in the wall indicated an entrance. "Please. Be funny now."

Simon dragged Inara through the gate, his face blank. His grip, however, was obviously powerful, for Inara's face was twisted in pain.

Freya cursed, glancing at Maice, fury in her eyes. "_Ne tah muh duh, hwoon dahn_!"

Simon stopped just the other side of the force field.

"What happened?" Freya asked quietly.

"River let him loose." Inara tried to pry Simon's fingers from her arm, but his grip was like steel.

"Where is she now?"

"Still on the shuttle, back the way she was."

"Great," Freya whispered. "Just when we need a homicidal maniac, she's asleep."

Maice clapped his hands. "Enough of this chit chat. I have spent a large amount of money to find you, and I –"

Freya interrupted. "Why? Were you pissed because you lost?"

Maice slammed his fist onto the arm of his throne. "I did not lose! I never lose!"

"You're insane," Freya said.

Maice lifted a hand, and one of the guards behind Freya touched her in the back with his stick. Pain flashed through her and she let out an involuntary cry, falling to her knees and trying to breathe.

"I'd be careful what I say, Miss Nordstrom." Maice settled himself, watching her climb unsteadily to her feet. "As I said, I spent money to find you. I had hoped that there would be more people with you, but I'm sure we can make this interesting." He pressed a button on his chair, and a door slid open in the wall a little way along from the dais. A column of stone moved forward, a male figure strapped securely to it, bound and gagged: Mal. "And this will be such fun," Maice continued. "Money can buy so much information. For instance, it can buy the fact that you both have feelings for Captain Reynolds here. And that is something that will make this game very special." He stood up, like a Roman Emperor about to pass judgement. "You will fight each other. I know you both can, so there's no need to deny it. I am well aware of Miss Nordstrom's skills, and a Companion is trained in the art of … shall we say, extreme self defence? So tomorrow you will fight. And the winner gets to keep the good captain."

"And the loser?" Inara asked defiantly.

"Oh don't be mistaken. There will be no loser. Just alive – or dead."

"I was right: you are insane." This time Freya was ready for the pain, but it didn't stoop her whole left side going numb. This time she fell forward, unable to stop herself hitting the force field and being thrown back.

"Freya!" Inara tried in vain to release Simon's grip, twisting and pulling until it felt as if her arm were going to come out of its socket.

Maice pressed his control box again and Simon let go, going to sit on the low wall in front of Mal, who was himself struggling against his bonds, unintelligible noises coming from behind the gag.

The force field dropped, and Inara knelt by Freya, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Freya?"

"I'm okay." She tried to sit up. "I think."

"It will wear off soon, Miss Nordstrom. Certainly by tomorrow. I can't have my games pieces in any way unfit. It wouldn't be playing by the rules." He laughed and pointed to Simon. "Which is also why, in case you were wondering, I haven't used my control device on the pair of you. When you fight – and you will fight – it will be you in control. You who kill." He nodded to one of the guards, who hauled Freya to her feet. "Now, I suggest you get some rest. It will be a big day for you tomorrow. Although for one of you it will be your last." He laughed again as the guards hustled the two women out of the arena.

Mal watched them go, struggling futilely, anger burning white hot inside him.

---

The room the guards took them to was dark, bare of furniture except for stone benches that ran along the length of each wall. A single high window let in the bright afternoon light.

Freya managed to sit on one of the benches before she fell down. She rubbed her leg, trying to get some feeling back.

"Does he mean what he says?" Inara asked, sitting next to her.

Freya looked into the Companion's worried face. "He means every word. If we don't fight, he'll kill us all."

"I don't think I can."

"Inara, you must."

"I can't."

"You don't, we die." Freya looked into Inara's face, and the Companion was shocked to see something other than friendship in her eyes. "Ain't it the way? I shoulda known you couldn't."

"Freya? I don't understand."

"You make me sick." Inara pulled back but Freya went on. "You with your fancy ways, your manipulations … you say the same things to everyone to make them think they're special, when all you are is a whore."

Inara was shocked – Freya never used that word, and berated Mal when he did. "Freya, you don't mean that."

"Every word."

"Don't." Inara felt her knees give way and she sat down quickly.

"Don't?" Freya stood up, leaning over her. "Don't what? Don't tell the truth? Don't call you on how you use people?"

"What are you doing?"

"Inara, tomorrow we will fight. There's no choice. But don't think that I won't try to kill you, because I will." She walked across the room, getting feeling back in her leg. "You really think this isn't the opportunity I've been waiting for?" She laughed, but there was no humour in it.

"I don't –"

"You think we're friends? We're not. I've had enough experience at lying that it comes as second nature." She faced the other woman and leaned close. "I hate you, Inara. I hate what you've made of me. But mostly I hate that Mal still loves you."

"He doesn't."

"I know, when he's kissing me, it's your lips he thinking of; when he's holding my flesh he's wishing it was yours, and when we lie together he dreams of you."

"That isn't true, Freya."

"You think I don't know?" Freya slammed her fist into the wall beside Inara's head.

"You're lying." Inara stood up, face to face.

"Am I?" Freya gave a short bark of laughter, ignoring the blood dripping from the grazes on her knuckles. "Use all that Companion training, all those instincts, and you tell me I'm not telling the truth! You'd better prepare to fight me tomorrow, Inara. Or I will kill you where you stand."

"Freya –"

"No! Now, I need to try and get some sleep. Got some killing to do tomorrow." She backed up and sat on the stone bench, lifting her legs up. She leaned on the wall and closed her eyes, trying to breathe deeply, holding her emotions in check.

Inara stared at her, her thoughts confused, and felt an anger building inside.

---

In another part of the compound, in a cell very much like the one Freya and Inara were occupying, Mal was pacing backwards and forwards. His anger was about at top level, but he knew from bitter experience that it was capable of going higher. Although most of it was directed at Maice, he was more than a little annoyed at Freya: she had known what was likely to happen, but hadn't taken account of what Maice would do when he found out his tame puppet hadn't delivered them all. He could guess what happened.

There was a sound at the door, and he quickly stood to one side, waiting for whoever to come through. It was a guard, and Mal used the moment of surprise he had to pull him into the room, punching him deep in the stomach, then pulling the man's head down to his knee, feeling his nose break on impact. Then a searing pain coursed through him, emanating from a point in the small of his back, but extending throughout his body. He collapsed to his knees, his palms in the dirt.

"Really, Captain Reynolds, did you think you'd be able to get away that easily?" Maice asked, stepping inside the cell and looking down at the incapacitated man.

"Nope, not really. Just wanted to kill someone, is all," Mal gasped.

"Well, you've done an almost perfect job." Maice touched the unconscious guard with his foot. "Get him out of here," he ordered.

Two other guards grabbed their comrade by the arms and dragged him unceremoniously out. Maice stood looking at Mal in a calculated fashion, the other two guards ready with their pain sticks should Serenity's captain attempt to do anything more than just try to breathe.

"You know, Frey was right," Mal managed to say, taking air into lungs that didn't really want to work.

"You mean about me being insane?" Maice smiled coldly. "Perhaps. But when you have as much money as I have, it isn't really insanity. It's eccentricity."

Mal struggled to his feet. "And that gives you the right to play judge and jury?"

"Oh, I'm not judging you, Captain," Maice assured him. "I don't care what you've done. Or had planned to do, for that matter. All that I care about is the game. The fight. To the death. And it will be glorious." He walked across the room and sat down on the bench, his guards close. "I have waited a long time to get that woman back in my arena, and I intend to get every ounce of satisfaction out of her."

Mal glared at him. "Her name's Freya."

"I don't care."

"Why don't you just start a war somewhere?" Mal asked. "Then you'd see all the death you want."

"Ah, you see, that's where you're mistaken. Again. The death itself is almost incidental. But to make friends – lovers, perhaps – fight each other, with all the emotion and grief that entails, that is the prize. That makes all of this," he indicated the compound, "worth it."

"You're going to die, you know that, don't you?" Mal said.

"No, Captain Reynolds. But you might. It depends on whether your little friends decide to do the decent thing and face each other tomorrow."

"They won't kill each other."

"No?" Maice took a small personal vid from his pocket, tapping the control until he found the clip he wanted. "You think not?" He handed the pad to a guard, who passed it to Mal. "Take a look. See for yourself."

Mal stared at him then looked down at the vid. He touched the play button. Freya and Inara appeared on the screen, in a cell.

Freya spoke. "He means every word. If we don't fight, he'll kill us all."

Inara shook her head. "I don't think I can."

"Inara, you must."

"I can't."

"You don't, we die." Freya, even on this small screen, showed utter contempt. "Ain't it the way? I shoulda known you couldn't."

Mal watched the screen with a sinking heart, hearing words he never expected to come from Freya.

"Inara, tomorrow we will fight. There's no choice. But don't think that I won't try to kill you, because I will. You really think this isn't the opportunity I've been waiting for?" She laughed, so coldly that Mal could feel ice in it.

"You see?" Maice said as the vid ended. "I think I shall be getting something worth seeing tomorrow."

Mal threw the screen against the wall in disgust, seeing it shatter. "_Ching wah tsao dul liou mahng_!"

"Now, now, Captain Reynolds. Keep yourself calm. After all, you might need all that rage yourself." Maice stood up and laughed, leaving the cell as his guards kept watchful eyes on Mal.

Mal watched impotently as the door closed again, noting almost on the edge of his consciousness that he had been right, and his anger was greater than ever. If what he had seen on that screen was true, and there was no reason to believe that Maice would fabricate such a thing, Freya was going to try and kill Inara tomorrow. And she could do it, too, that much he knew. Her skills, her talents, had been honed in battle, apart from anything she'd learned since. But Inara wasn't helpless, and it occurred to him that he might be watching them both die. He started to pace again. "_Ai ya, hwai leh_!" he muttered.

---

The sun had come up, but the room in which Freya and Inara were held was still dark, so when the door opened they blinked in the sudden light. One of the guards stood in the doorway.

"It's time."

Freya stood, shaking some life back into her limbs. "Good. Let's do this."

The guard tossed something to her which hit her in the chest, and she grabbed hold. "Put these on." He threw another to Inara.

Freya opened out the package – it was a one-piece red suit, fitted and padded about the shoulders. "Shiny."

---

The sunlight angled down into the area, and heat was already building, bouncing up off the sand. Maice was already sitting on his throne, and Simon was still in the same place they had last seen him. Mal, on the other hand, had been put into a cage about a quarter of the way around. He looked unharmed, but exceptionally angry. One of the guards stood next to him, his stick at the ready.

Freya and Inara entered the arena, dressed in red and white respectively, the differences between them marked in their outfits. Inara, shorter than Freya, slighter, holding herself with a majestic bearing, but clearly frightened. Freya, tall, curvaceous but muscular, proud. She led the way to the centre of the arena, deliberately not making eye contact with Mal, no matter that he called their names several times.

She spoke, her voice clear and strong. "Maice. Do you promise that the winner will be released? That no harm will come to them or Captain Reynolds?"

"You're here to fight. Not talk."

"Do you promise?"

"Oh, very well. Yes, I promise that the winner will be able to leave, unmolested, with your captain. Happy?"

Freya ignored him. She turned to Inara. "Fight me. Or I will end you. Believe it."

"You're insane."

"Maybe. But I'm not going to die to prove you wrong."

"Freya, Inara – don't do this!" Mal shouted, pulling at the door to the cage.

"Come, come. I don't have all day." Maice clicked his fingers.

"No, neither do I," Freya muttered, and backed away from Inara.

A guard threw two swords into the centre of the arena. They lay on the sand, catching the light, looking hellishly sharp.

"It's time," Freya said, doing a running roll over the sand and picking up one of the swords on route. Inara ran to follow, and they faced each other off.

Freya attacked, and the swords sang in the morning air. Sparks flew as they parried and thrust, moving around the arena, each gaining then losing the advantage.

Mal watched, unable to do anything but that, not calling, not wanting to distract either, but equally not wanting to see either of them die. He was no good with a blade, not really, but he knew enough to realise that what he was watching was real skill, and gradually he understood that most of that skill lay on Freya's side. She was controlling the fight more, moving smoothly around the arena, but for some reason not taking advantage when Inara made a mistake, left herself open. His brow furrowed – something else was going on here.

Suddenly Freya seemed to misstep, and Inara lunged forward. The look on Freya's face was pure surprise as the blade slid through her, a sharp intake of breath her only sound.

"Freya!" Mal shouted.

Freya looked down at the blade, amazed at the fire it had ignited within her. She knew it had gone all the way through, and she was aware of blood seeping out around it.

Inara, in shock at what she'd done, pulled the sword slowly out, not realising that Freya felt every molecule as a white-hot shard of pain in her belly. Blood dropped from the sword, and as the tip came free Freya fell to her knees, sitting back on her heels.

"Finish it," Maice commanded.

"You have to," Freya mouthed, no sound coming from her throat.

Inara, as if hypnotised, raised her sword.

"Inara – no!" Mal was fighting with the bars of his cage, trying desperately to break the lock. "Inara!"

Then it was too late. The Companion plunged the sword down, into Freya's chest, and she reared back, her mouth open in a soundless scream. Then as Inara withdrew the blade she slumped forward, sitting upright but her head fallen forward. Mal staggered back from the cage bars.

Inara turned to face Maice. "It's over," she said. "Keep your promise." Blood dripped from the point of the sword, staining the yellow sand a deep red.

"Oh, I shall," Maice smiled, very unpleasantly. "And the winner shall have Captain Reynolds. At least for tonight. Then you shall fight each other."

"That's not right!" Inara protested.

"Do you think I would let you leave here alive?" Maice sneered.

"No," said Freya.

Inara had been standing between Maice and Freya, and only Mal had seen Freya slowly move her hand and pick up her sword from the sand. He held his breath as she managed to get to her feet, leaning on her thighs, darker blood running down the red suit. Now she moved around Inara.

"No," she repeated. "I never did." With that she lunged forward, pushing the point of her sword through Maice with such force that it impaled him to the chair. He fluttered his hands ineffectually at the blade as Freya leaned closer and said, direct to his face, "You lose."

She watched as he tried to speak, to formulate words and deny it, but his voice wouldn't respond. After a moment his jaw fell, and the light died in his eyes.

Maice's guards, in shock at the death of their boss at the hands of an apparent corpse, raised their weapons. Two shots rang out almost simultaneously, followed immediately by a third, and three guards fell twitching to the sand.

"I think it's the cavalry," Freya said, turning slowly to Inara, the control box in her hand.

Zoe and Jayne stood on the arena wall, firing expertly. Maice's guards, employed for their brutality rather than their bravery or skill with weapons, were rapidly overcome. As Serenity's crew leaped down and ran towards the others, Freya tossed the box to Inara, wincing in pain. "Smash it," she said.

Inara dropped it onto the ground and brought her heel down on it. The thing died in a shower of sparks.

Simon jerked to his feet. "What –"

"Simon, let me out of here," Mal shouted. "That guard has the key." He pointed to one of the bodies.

Simon hurriedly went through the dead man's pockets, finding the key and taking it to Mal. Freya watched, smiling a little, then took a step forward. She fell, not aware enough to put her hands out to cushion her fall.

"Frey!" Mal shouted, pushing the cage door open and vaulting the wall.

Inara was on her knees by the injured woman, and between them they rolled Freya gently over.

"Careful," Simon ordered, kneeling down beside them. "She's losing a lot of blood."

"I didn't hit any major organs," Inara insisted. "I know I didn't."

Freya's eyelids fluttered once, and she looked directly into Mal's face before lying still.

"We'd have been back sooner, but Serenity wouldn't let us turn," Jayne said, standing next to them, covering the arena with Vera.

"And we couldn't launch a shuttle until now," Zoe added. "Kaylee finally managed to clear the lock."

"My decision," Mal said, gathering Freya into his arms. Simon held her legs. "Where's Serenity?"

"In orbit. But the shuttle's just outside."

"Good." Mal's face was carefully blank. "Let's get Freya to the infirmary."

---

Simon was busying himself putting his equipment away when he realised Freya was awake. He stepped to the side of the bed and looked down at her, glancing once at the monitor.

"Hey," Freya managed to say.

"Hey. Lie still. Don't try to move."

"Couldn't if wanted to."

"Your injuries are severe, but not life threatening. Inara knew what she was doing."

Freya smiled a little. "Did that. Y'okay?"

"I'm fine."

She raised a hand briefly, pointing to his neck. "Thing gone?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Zoe and Mal – under my supervision."

"'N I missed it. River?"

"She's okay too. I'm sorry, by the way."

"Not your fault."

"I knew what was going on, but I couldn't do anything. I couldn't stop myself." He looked … distressed.

"Simon, it's okay." Freya smiled again, but it turned into a wince and she groaned slightly.

"Are you in pain?"

"Some."

Simon went to his medbag and prepared a syringe.

Outside the infirmary Mal and Inara were talking, waiting for news.

"She goaded me, Mal," Inara was saying, still shocked at what had happened. "Said things to make me – they were all lies. The only true thing she said was that she'd had so much practice lying – she made me believe her."

"To make you fight."

"I couldn't have otherwise. And she knew, Mal, she knew if I won I would hurt her without killing her."

"They teach you that at the Academy?"

"Anatomy was one of my best subjects."

Mal gazed at her. "Was it. Not that I am happy with what happened."

"Oh, Mal, neither am I," Inara agreed fervently.

"So what did she say?"

"Oh, no. That's between her and me."

He had a pretty good idea anyway, apart from what he'd seen on the vid. He knew what preyed on Freya's mind occasionally, and no matter what he said, or did, she couldn't quite rid herself of the nagging doubt.

"Why not ask her yourself?" Simon called from inside the infirmary, injecting a liquid into the drip running into Freya's arm. "Only for a minute, though."

Inara hurried through, Mal following at a slightly more leisurely pace. "Freya," the Companion said.

Freya smiled slightly. "Hi."

"So that was your plan?" Inara was still annoyed, you could tell.

"Spur of the moment. Had to make you mad enough to fight, but not to kill."

"How did you know I wouldn't?"

"You're 'Nara – my friend."

Inara felt something inside her relax. "Why didn't you just tell me?" she asked, letting some of her exasperation with this woman out.

"Listening. Watching and listening. All the time. Part of the way he got his kicks." She looked at Mal standing behind Inara. "Did I kill him?"

"Yes, yes, you did," Mal said.

"Good. Thought it might've been a dream." Her eyes started to close, and she forced them open, but Simon saw.

"Time to get some rest."

"He's not wrong," Freya agreed.

"I'll see you soon," Inara said firmly and left the infirmary.

"Soon."

"You too, Mal," Simon added.

"In a minute." He looked down at Freya quizzically. "So what did you say? To make Inara fight, I mean."

"Nothing."

"I imagine it was about me still wanting her."

Freya felt a stab of jealousy. "Showed the darkness in my soul. Not pretty. Scary."

"Can't persuade you, can I?" Mal asked, shaking his head.

"Give me time. Like fifty years." She smiled, then blinked several times. "Hey, doc, that was good stuff."

"It has a sedative effect," Simon replied.

"Oh." Her eyes closing, she said, "Mal – be here when I wake?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Good. Thas … good." Her eyes closed finally, then smiled as sleep overtook her, feeling Mal take her hand in his.


	3. Words

Freya was on her feet. Just. Not too steady, and Simon was standing by waiting to catch her if she fell, while Mal was conspicuously leaning against the counter, close but not so close that she could tell he was concerned.

"How is it?" the young doctor asked.

"Simon, I'm upright. I think that's pretty damn good!" She smiled, then put a hand out quickly onto the medbed to steady herself.

"Okay, now you've proved you're capable of actually using what your feet were meant for, don't you think you oughta sit down?" Mal asked, concentrating on not showing his anxiety.

She looked over at him, and grinned. He felt himself grow a little warm, and wondered if he were actually blushing. She could make him feel all manner of uncomfortable, just by turning those brown eyes on him …

"The captain's right, Freya," Simon agreed. "That's enough for one day. Lie down."

"He said sit," Freya pointed out, not moving.

"And I said lie down. I'm the doctor around here," Simon said firmly. "And in this infirmary, my word is law, not his."

Mal lifted an eyebrow at him, but the young man ignored it.

"Hey, Frey!" Jayne called, leaning in through the door. "Looks like you're gettin' better."

"That I am," she said, smiling at the big man.

"Good. Having everyone mopin' around here was getting on my –"

"Jayne." Mal's voice cut across him. "Go find something to do."

"Just being friendly," Jayne grumbled, pushing away from the door frame. "If'n anyone wants me, I'll be in my bunk."

"I am constantly surprised that man has any strength to do any work," Simon muttered. "The amount of time he spends in his bunk."

"Frey, you gonna do what the doctor ordered you to?" Mal asked, ignoring him, instead watching Freya intently.

"I … um … don't think I can," she admitted, giving a shaky smile.

Both Mal and Simon immediately moved forward, each taking an elbow and her weight so she could hitch her buttocks on the bed. Mal lifted her legs up gently, swinging them round so she was lying flat. She grimaced as the wound in her belly pulled.

"Are you okay?" Mal asked.

She forced her face to clear, and she looked into his blue eyes. "Shiny, Mal."

"That's enough excitement for one day," Simon said. "I should never have let you talk me into this."

"I needed to prove it to myself, doc," Freya said, laying her head down again, a pounding behind her eyes that she was not going to mention. Simon being angry was not something she particularly wanted to see.

"Well, you won't be proving anything again. Not for a while." Simon looked up at Mal. "And you need to get some rest. River tells me you've not been sleeping."

Freya took Mal's hand. "That true?" she asked.

"I've sorta gotten used to you being there," he admitted, the corners of his mouth lifting.

"I know what you mean." She smiled at him. "Won't be long."

"It won't be any time soon unless you both get some rest," Simon put in, his best doctorly manner shining through.

Freya turned the grin on him. "Doc, I'm getting better. Jayne said so."

---

Mal didn't go to his bunk, but up to the bridge, where River was sitting in the pilot's chair, looking out into the black.

"Hey, little albatross," Mal said, smiling. "We all smooth up here?"

"Shiny, captain," River said, flicking a switch idly. "We'll be on time to make our delivery."

"Good to know," Mal said, turning to go back down the stairs.

"She needs to speak to you," River said suddenly. "Clear the air."

Mal looked back. "Who?"

"Inara."

"Clear the air over what?"

"Talk to her." River glanced over her shoulder at him and gave him the look she normally reserved for her brother, the one that said he was a boob.

"Getting ordered around on my own ship," Mal muttered, walking down the steps. "Sometimes I wonder if I was ever captain of this boat at all."

---

Inara hadn't had a client since Freya got hurt, not because of the bruises on her body from where Simon had hurt her, but because she was trying to come to a decision. Something that could make all the difference to her life.

She was pacing the floor of the shuttle, her hands clasped together in front of her, trying to think, when a knock came at the door. "_Ching ging_."

Mal appeared in the doorway. "River said you needed to speak to me."

"I didn't ask her to -"

"Well, you know River. Trying her best to make everyone sort themselves out." Mal smiled.

"Yes, that she does." Inara didn't return the smile, and Mal's faded too.

"What is it?" he asked, stepping into the interior of the shuttle, feeling concern for her.

"All this that's happened … Freya getting hurt …" Inara shook her head. "It's all my fault."

"How do you figure that?" Mal asked. "You didn't make her go down to that moon. She kinda decided that all by herself."

"But it was my fault she …" Inara stopped, taking a deep breath. "Mal, what would have happened if I'd stopped being a Companion?"

"What?" He stared at her.

"If I'd come to you, said I wasn't going to take clients any more?"

Mal couldn't respond for a moment, then said, "Well, we ain't gonna find out now."

"But what would you have said? Before Freya joined Serenity?"

Mal turned from her, taking his time, moving to the sofa so he could sit down. "Inara, we both know what would have happened." He looked up at her, standing so proud, so beautiful in front of him. "I'd have taken you into my bed."

"Yes," she said unhappily. "If we'd been together, she wouldn't have come on board, would she?" she added, turning from him to go and straighten an already tidy corner table.

"I … I don't know." Mal really couldn't decide. "I'd'a invited her, all situations having been the same. But I don't know if she'd have said yes."

"She wouldn't," Inara said softly. "To be in the same room as someone you love, who doesn't love you, who's with someone else … it's painful. It's so hard, Mal." She sat down on the bed, facing him.

"We ain't talking about Freya, are we?" he asked.

"Yes, we are, Mal." She looked into his blue eyes. "But we're talking about me too."

"You want to leave, is that it?"

"I don't know what I want," she admitted. "That's what River picked up on, I suppose."

"Most like."

"I can't help how I feel," Inara said. "How I feel about you."

"I know," he said quietly, but acknowledging annoyance washing through him. "But I've made my choice, Inara. You told me to …to decide … well, I've decided. And it ain't with you."

"It should have been." Her voice cut through the air like a knife. "Why her, Mal?" Inara stood up, sweeping across the room in her red dress, blood red. "Why not me?"

"You're a Companion!" Mal exploded, jumping to his feet. "You've had God knows how many men in your bed, in you … and you think I could live with that?"

"It's what I do, Mal. Not who I am."

"How can you tell them apart?"

"The people or the job?"

"It ain't much of a difference!"

They stood staring at each other, anger filling the room like a red cloud.

Kaylee, down in the cargo bay, could hear the raised voices, and a tremor ran through her. She didn't want this, she wanted everyone to be happy. And before Freya getting injured, they were. The captain had found himself in finding her, and Kaylee had rejoiced. But now … She hurried towards Simon's room. She needed to be close to someone right now, just to be held.

"Why didn't you ask me to stop?" Inara cried at last.

"Because it wasn't up to me!" Mal took a step forward, his face so close to hers she could see the pain in his eyes. "You could have stopped, any time. You knew how I felt about it, but that didn't matter! You still went on taking them into …" He stopped, aware his hands were in fists. He didn't want to hit her, but all the men she'd been with …

"I'm not a whore!" she shouted, wanting to reach out to him, to shake some sense into him, to make him see she …

"I ain't said you were!"

"You say it every day!"

Zoe stepped out of the dining area, her gaze meeting River's where she stood in the doorway to the bridge. The young girl put a finger to her lips and Zoe nodded. This needed to be done, whatever the outcome.

"I needed you!" Inara said, her voice trembling.

"Then why the _diyu_ did you leave?"

"Because it seemed the right thing to do!"

They glared at each other, physically so close but emotionally far apart.

"Why? Why, Inara?" Mal asked finally. "Were you so jealous of the night I spent with Nandi?"

Mal's mentioning of the green-eyed woman was too much for Inara. She turned away from him, not wanting to be burned by his gaze any longer. "Yes," she admitted. "If I were honest I'd say that was the moment I realised we weren't ever going to be together. That you felt that kind of pain every time I took a client."

He breathed deep, knowing the truth of that statement. "But you came back."

"Because you came for me." She faced him again. "Like you always did. Like you did for Kaylee, for Zoe, for Simon … for Freya."

"Inara -"

"When I came home, I thought … I hoped it would change, that you'd want me enough to overlook what I did. Or that I would want you enough to change. But it didn't happen. I'd lost you before she ever came on board." She wiped away the tear that had slid down her cheek.

"It wasn't her fault, Inara," Mal said.

"No. It was mine." She shook her head. "And River is right. I wanted to believe that she hated me, when she was goading me into fighting her. I wanted to believe it, because if she lost maybe I'd have you again."

"It wouldn't -"

"Damn it, Mal! Don't you think I know that? Here?" She touched her breast. "In my heart?"

Jayne dropped the weights back into their frame, listening. He couldn't hear the shouts anymore, but in a way that was worse. Sounded like it was coming to a head, anyway.

"I did this to her," Inara went on. "What I did … if I had killed her … you'd never have forgiven me."

Mal stared at her then collapsed onto the sofa, his head in his hands. "It weren't your fault. I should have stopped her." His voice was small, totally unlike his normal tone, a man in pain. "I should have ordered her not to be so stupid as to go down to that moon."

"And Simon? What would have happened to him?" Inara asked, sitting down next to him, close but not touching, her heart still going out to him.

"We could have got him to the Davenport. Kept him under control until they got that thing out of him."

"Are you sure of that?" Inara shook her head, still feeling the touch of the doctor's hand on her arm, the power he had exhibited in taking over the shuttle, her inability to do anything but watch. "It might have killed him."

Mal looked up, and the look in his eyes made her heart stop. "She nearly died, Inara. I know Simon ain't said it, but I can tell. Seen enough battle wounds to know. She was a hair's-breadth away from leaving me."

"I know." Inara shuddered, remembering the feel of the blade going in, the ease with which the steel slid through Freya's body, then the worse sensation of pulling it back, the tiny nicks in the edge seeming to catch in the muscle, the skin …

"I ain't had her long enough, Inara. I've known her for years, but I never admitted –" He shook his head. "I know we had something, you and me. And if we'd done something about it we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Do you want me to go?" Inara asked.

"It ain't up to me." Mal looked at her, the dark hair loose around her shoulders, the bright brocade of her dress, her pale face … and realised that he would never have her. He had made that choice, and it was one that would bring him pain or pleasure, but it was one he wanted most desperately. "Do you want to?"

"I don't know if I can stay," she admitted. "I can't help how I feel, but I'm not Freya. I don't know if I can bear to be around you both, knowing that it won't ever be me."

"It ain't my choice, Inara," Mal said again. "You've got to make the decision yourself. But whatever you choose, I'll stand by it."

She smiled, a trifle unsteadily. "Thank you."

Mal got to his feet. "Now, I got captainy things to do, so I think you'd better go have that talk with Freya."

"What talk?" Inara asked.

"The one you're going to have right now." He walked out of the shuttle, leaving her to realise he was, as usual, quite right.

---

Inara looked into the infirmary, but Freya was laying back, her eyes closed, and she went to leave.

"Inara." Freya spoke. "I'm not asleep." She opened her eyes and looked at the Companion.

"How did you know it was me?" Inara asked.

"Smelled your perfume," Freya said, smiling.

"I wanted to speak to you."

"Good. 'Cause I got something I …" She tried to sit higher, but her face contorted in pain. "Something I want to say to you too," she finished, panting slightly.

"Are you all right? Should I get Simon?"

"No, it's … I'm shiny." Freya took a calming breath. "I'm sorry."

"What?" Inara was taken aback. "What for?"

"Putting you in that position. It was wrong of me, and I'm sorry."

"Freya, I stabbed you!" She motioned ineffectually towards the other woman's belly.

"I kinda noticed. But I made you do it. I didn't give you an alternative." She shook her head. "For so long I've done things my way. In the war, as a Lieutenant -"

"A - you outranked Mal?" Inara interrupted, her eyes wide.

A half-smile lifted Freya's lips. "Just don't tell anyone." Then she was serious again. "Then again, after, as captain of my own ship, it was always what I wanted to do, what I said. I guess … I just didn't think, Inara."

Inara put her hand on Freya's. "It wasn't your fault. Maice had Simon in his control. You and Mal had to stop him."

"Yeah, by charging at it like some enraged animal, instead of planning things properly. And people got hurt."

"You."

"Well, it was just lucky it was only me. You, Mal, Simon … people could have died."

"But we didn't. And you're getting better." Inara squeezed her hand, feeling Freya's fingers in hers.

"That I am." She grinned. "'Cept Simon won't let me go back to my bunk." She laughed. "Probably knows what Mal and I'd get up to the minute his back's turned if he did." She eased her position carefully, then looked up into Inara's dark eyes. "What is it?" she asked, surprised.

Inara had taken a step back, letting go, not wanting to think of them together. "I … I think I should leave Serenity."

"Why?" Freya asked, genuinely amazed.

"Because it was my fault."

Freya shook her head. "How come everyone thinks it's their fault when it's clearly my own?" She chuckled, then stopped as it hurt. "Even Simon, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it."

"No, I mean it was my fault because of how I felt. About you and Mal."

"Oh." Freya looked into the Companion's face. "Is that what all the shouting was about a while back?" she asked. "It sounded like you and Mal were having a fight."

"We … were having a disagreement."

"Well, you have another like that and you wait until I'm back on my feet. This kind of disagreement I want to watch."

Inara smiled. "I wouldn't recommend it."

"Trying to talk him into bed?"

"No, no …" Inara protested, then stopped. "In a way. I just … it hurts, Freya."

"Yeah, it does." Freya took a deep breath, well, as deep as she could. "That's another thing we have in common, Inara. And I'm sorry for that too. It was … well, one of us was going to win, or neither, and it's the kind of competition shouldn't have to happen."

"He chose you."

"Yeah, he did." Freya laid her head back, gazing into the infirmary's ceiling for a moment. "And I wish …"

"That it were different?" Inara prompted.

"That someone didn't have to get hurt."

"Someone always does."

Freya looked into the Companion's eyes. "Yeah. Guess they do."

"Do you want me to go?" Inara asked.

"Why would I -"

"I thought you might."

Freya smiled a little. "Inara, you're family. And they'd miss you, the crew. They need you. Hell, I need you. Who else have I got to help keep Mal in line?"

Inara laughed, swallowing, falling back on levity. "True. Zoe does mostly what he tells her, Kaylee can wrap him around her little finger, and River … well, River can make him so uncomfortable he does anything just to get away."

"That she does." Freya sighed. "But don't go. Serenity's your home."

"I've never felt like that anywhere else," Inara admitted. "And in reality I don't want to leave. Even if -"

"It hurts? 'Nara, that kind of pain at least lets you know you're alive." She stifled a yawn.

"You're tired, and I'm keeping you awake," Inara said quickly. "I'll let you get some rest."

"I am a mite sleepy," Freya agreed, watching the Companion head towards the door. "But maybe I'm being selfish," she added suddenly, making Inara turn to look at her.

"How?"

"If you go, I'll always be wondering if one day he'd go to you. If you stay, and he doesn't, then I'll know."

Inara stepped closer to the medbed. "He doesn't want me, Freya. If he ever really did. If that had been the case I think we'd have worked it out a lot sooner, and with a different outcome. I think maybe it was you all along, and he just got confused." She shook her head sadly. "I'm not the right woman for him, I've had to realise that. You two fit, as if you were made for each other. And maybe you were."

Freya smiled a little. "Thanks."

"What for?"

"Being a friend. And I don't want you to leave Serenity. Not for Mal, or anyone else. But for me."

"Do you mean that?"

"I do," Freya said, surprising herself. "I don't have that many friends I can lose one of them."

---

Mal stood in the cargo bay, hidden from general sight by several crates as he moved stuff around, and watched Inara come out of the common area and head back to her shuttle. There was something different about her, more sure of herself, more like the old Inara. She looked beautiful. Suddenly he smiled as he realised it didn't matter. Oh, he was glad for her, that she seemed at last to be letting go of the past, but the fact that she was more like she used to be didn't make him want her. That was reserved for the woman in the infirmary.

He turned, about to head to the bridge, when River stepped out in front of him, making him yelp. "What the… do you know how much trouble you can get into jumping out on people like that?" he asked.

"Talk to her," River said, her dark eyes on her captain.

He glanced up towards the shuttle. "I just –"

"Not her. Her." River pointed towards the infirmary. "Tell her how you feel. Let her assuage your guilt. Because she feels it too."

"Frey? Why the hell should she feel guilty?"

"Because it was her choice. She made Inara do that, and she let it happen to save you all. And she knows how you feel." River tilted her head slightly, looking at him, feeling his confusion. "She knows what this has done to you. What it will do. And you have to be strong."

"Strong? Little albatross, I don't understand."

River shook her head. "It isn't time." She gently put her hands on his shoulders and turned him around to face the entrance to the infirmary. "Talk to her."

---

"I think it's time we had a little chat," Mal said, stepping into the infirmary.

"Oh?" She felt a wave of dread pass through her, but didn't let it show on her face.

He still knew. "About how I thought I'd lost you. Seeing you on that sand, hurting, and not being able to do a damn thing about it."

"I'm not dead, Mal."

He moved closer to the medbed. "Could have been."

"There's so many 'could have been's on this boat, I'm surprised we can take off at all."

Mal gave a half-smile. "That there is." His face darkened into seriousness again. "I nearly lost you."

"I'm sorry."

"You keep apologisin' and I'm gonna end up thinking you mean it."

"I do."

"So next time you're gonna let me be the boss, make the decisions?"

"Maybe."

"Only maybe?"

"You gonna throw me off your boat if I argue with you?"

"I might." He looked at her. "'Course, that would entail hell freezing over."

"I thought you didn't believe in that any more," she pointed out, trying not to smile.

"If what you put me through, thinking I'd lost you, ain't hell, and there's something worse, I don't want to know what it is," Mal said, taking her hand in his and squeezing it gently.


	4. Passion: Part I

The music had a beat to it that called at the feet, and the lights, set up just for the fair, made the stars dim. Barkers called out to the people to come and try, and several ships sat next to Serenity a ways off.

"Don't be all night," Mal warned. "I need everyone back here – sober – ready for cargo tomorrow."

"Don't worry about us, cap'n," Kaylee called, her arms linked one in Simon and the other through River's. "We just gonna have a good time."

"I'll get them back in plenty of time," Simon confirmed.

Freya, standing next to Mal at the top of the ramp, watched them amble off, and nodded towards a most unlikely couple. "Doesn't that just bring a tear to your eye?" she asked, nudging Mal.

Mal looked at Zoe and Jayne, walking together, if not actually _together_. "Don't worry, she'll probably kill him before the night is much older."

Freya smiled. "It is definitely not something I ever thought I'd see."

"Seems unnatural, don't it?" Mal descended the ramp then turned and held out his hand. "You coming?"

Freya smiled and walked towards him, but as she stepped off the edge something jarred and she doubled over slightly in pain.

"You think this is anything close to a good idea?" Mal asked, waiting for her to recover but not seeming too anxious – she was still capable of causing him some serious harm.

Freya took a deep breath and stood up carefully. "Doc said a little light exercise would do me good."

"My own recollection is that what he said was that it was on your own head," Mal pointed out.

"Yeah, well, he didn't tie me down to the bed, so it's the same thing."

As they walked slowly towards the fair, Mal keeping his pace down to hers, he said conversationally, "You know, I've often wondered about that myself."

"About what?"

"Tying you to the bed." He very carefully didn't look at her. It didn't stop her from elbowing him in the stomach.

"In your dreams, Malcolm Reynolds."

"Oh, usually," Mal said, massaging the sore spot.

Kaylee and Simon had found their way to a tattooist, who was currently operating on a somewhat unwilling patient who was having a small scroll permanently drawn on his shoulder. From the look on his face, it wasn't exactly painless.

"How do you suppose Freya ever managed to get that one done on her back?" Kaylee asked, her head on one side.

Simon was watching closely. "There's no need for it to be painful. A shot of lignocaine would be enough to dull any feeling."

The man looked up at him, and it was hard to tell which was worse – the discomfort he was in or the realisation that Simon knew what he was talking about.

"Freya's tattoo is special," River said, coming up behind them. She had a cotton candy on a stick, and was picking clumps of pink sugar off and sucking them from her fingers. "It's not just ink – but prayer."

Simon was startled. His sister was so much better now, since Miranda, but sometimes she still said things that didn't really make sense. Although in this case he was inclined to believe her.

Kaylee was still watching the tattooist. "Shall I have one?" she asked mischievously. "Maybe a small flower, or a heart."

"Why not have Serenity done in all her glory across your buttocks?" Simon suggested scornfully. "You wouldn't be able to sit down for a week!"

"It would certainly stop all the shuttling backwards and forwards," River said, her mouth full of pink cloud. "You keep me awake."

"I'm sure we could find ways round it," Kaylee said, putting her arm through the young psychic's.

"I don't doubt it," River said, giving her brother her usual look, and they all moved off towards the merry-go-round. "Inara would have enjoyed this."

"Oh, honey," Kaylee said, "she couldn't pass up that offer. Two weeks on a private island? Hell, I'd go!"

"With me, I hope," Simon put in.

"Ooh, yes!" She let her thoughts roam. "Sandy beaches, blue sea, something ice-cold in a tall glass, that would be some way to spend –"

"Simon?" A voice rang out over the crowd. "Simon Tam?"

Simon stiffened, and said, "Keep walking."

A man hurried after them. "Simon? It is you, I know it is." He caught hold of Simon's arm, turning him around. "I knew it was!"

"Eric?" Simon was astounded. "Eric Lon?" He clapped the other man on the arm. "It's been years!"

"Medacad. You always were one of my favourite pupils," Lon agreed. "And even then you were way ahead of the rest of us." He turned to Kaylee. "And who is this delightful young lady?"

"A friend." Simon noticed that River had vanished into the night, and was glad.

"You dropped out of sight – what happened?"

Simon studied his friend, but noticed no sign of guile: he really didn't seem to know what had happened. "I wanted to see a bit more of the 'verse," he said. "I seemed to spend all my time in the ER or operating – I thought there must be more than that."

Lon looked appreciatively at Kaylee. "So I see."

Simon bridled a little. "What are you doing here?"

"Very similar, dear boy. Very similar. Travelling around, seeing the sights. Although I do seem to spend more time than I would wish cooped up in rather cramped accommodation. What ship are you on? Perhaps they have a vacancy."

Kaylee was about to speak, but Simon jumped in quickly. "Oh, I'm slumming it," he said, noting the hurt look that flashed across Kaylee's face, and mentally apologising. "Just a small transport, and there's barely enough room for the crew, let alone passengers. It was cheap, mainly."

"Cheap? With your money? Oh, you must be insane!"

"No, Eric. But out here it's better not to show you're wealthy – there's some very disreputable characters around."

"Yes, so I've seen. And all of them wearing guns, too. Do you? Wear a gun, I mean."

"Me?" Simon forced a laugh. "I wouldn't know one end from the other."

Lon appeared to see another face in the crowd that he recognised, because he half-turned, saying, "Well, I must be getting on. Friends waiting for me, you know. Perhaps we can get together tomorrow?"

"Possibly."

"Where are you staying? In town?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well, I'll find you, I'm sure. It's not like this is such a big place." Lon smiled widely and strode off.

"Slumming it?" Kaylee asked, still smarting.

"He was asking too many questions," Simon said, taking her arm. "I didn't want him to know everything."

"Is he dangerous?" Kaylee was suddenly apprehensive.

"I don't know. He's just …" Simon stopped and looked at her. Suddenly he felt guilty for spoiling her good time. "No," he said quickly. "No, he's not dangerous. He's just boring. Come on. I'll buy you something pretty to wear."

She brightened up immediately. "Ooh, something with flowers?"

---

"It's just not challenging." Freya was looking at the spinning wheel of the sharp-shooter stall, where playing cards were tacked, with an ace amongst them. "There's no skill in it."

"Then we make it more challenging." Mal put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face away, then picked up the pistol from the front of the stall. She reached out for it. "No, left hand."

"You want me to stand on one leg too?" she asked, mildly sarcastic.

"Only if it makes it more challenging."

She shot him a look but cocked the gun. "How many shots?"

The stall holder piped up, "All six. See if you can hit the ace." He started to pump the foot pedal, and the wheel began to turn. He made it go fast, not liking the look of these two strangers much, and keeping well out of the way of any wayward shots.

Freya glared at Mal then steadied herself. She lifted the gun and pointed it behind her, closing her eyes to get her bearings, then firing. One, two, three, four, five, six … fast and hard. One after the other they thudded into the wheel. She opened her eyes again and turned back. "Well, how did I do?"

The stall man stopped the wheel, then stopped himself. "How the hell …"

Even Mal was impressed. There on the ace, one in each corner and two so close together in the centre as to be almost indistinguishable, were six bullet holes. "Huh," he grunted.

The stall man's hand shook as he lifted down a small shaggy toy dog, handing it across. He swallowed. "Nice shootin'. Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Can't everyone?" Freya said, smiling sweetly.

"No." Mal considered briefly having a turn himself, but decided he probably couldn't better that. "I'm hungry. I'm considering letting you buy me something."

Freya laughed, but as they turned to go they came face to face with a raggedy child, a girl of about seven or eight. She was dressed in threadbare clothes, no shoes, a layer of grime covering her skin. She was staring at the toy in Freya's hand. They exchanged looks, then Freya smiled and handed it over. The girl went running off, the toy clutched to her skinny chest.

"She'll only sell it," the stall man said, sniffing loudly. "She's one of the lost."

"Lost?" Freya repeated.

"Families come here to look for work, can't find much, don't have the money to go further. They just kind of hang around doing whatever they can to make ends meet."

"Don't we all?" Freya breathed, then said louder, "Well, if she gets a meal out of it, I don't mind."

Mal looked at her. There was always something new to discover about Freya. "I begin to think you're just a big softie at heart."

"I am," Freya agreed. "And in good company too."

Mal wasn't quite sure how to take that, so instead took her arm. "Food. I'm in serious need of food or there might be collapsing here."

She laughed and they wandered towards the appetising smells from the food stalls. As they moved through the crowd, a man barged into her, banging his elbow into the barely healed wound. She gasped, doubling over and holding her stomach. Mal this time immediately put his arm around her, supporting her. She swore in Chinese, hard and long, as she waited for the pain to subside.

"You never used to swear like that, Elena," the man who had barged into her said.

She looked up at him and glared coldly. "You have mistaken me for someone else."

"And you should be a mite more careful about who you go around barging into," Mal added. "It can get you into a whole mess of trouble."

The man ignored Mal, something he wasn't used to. "Elena, of course it's you." He put his hand on her arm.

She raised her eyes, and the steel in them made him drop his hand immediately. "I said, you are mistook."

The man took a step back. "My apologies." He watched as the other two walked away, the man supporting the woman as much as she would let him.

"Eric?" Simon came out of the shadows. "What was all that about?"

Eric Lon turned and looked at the younger man. "That was Elena Rostov. I'm sure of it."

"Rostov?" Simon shook his head. "No, you must be mistaken. I've heard of the Rostovs: everyone has. What would one of them be doing out here?"

"I know I'm right. I met her once, a long time ago. That was Elena Rostov."

---

Back on Serenity Freya was examining the scar in the infirmary mirror. "I think it's okay. Just sore."

"I can find the young doctor, if you want," Mal offered.

"No need." Simon walked into the infirmary. "I thought I'd find you here. Are you all right? Here, sit down."

It showed a measure of the discomfort Freya was in for her to meekly climb onto the examining table and lay back. Simon rolled her top back and gently probed the area of the wound. The scar was red, a little hot looking, and obviously uncomfortable, because she sucked her breath in when he pressed too hard.

"It's okay," he said. "Not healing as well as the other side, but there's no damage, although it is a little inflamed. I think it would have been better for you not to have gone out, though."

"Maybe you should have tied her down to the bed after all, doc," Mal said, drily.

Freya pulled her top back down and sat up, swinging her legs off the edge of the table, ignoring him. "Thanks, Simon."

"It looks sore, though. Do you want a painkiller?" He reached for a hypo.

"No, thanks. I'm not that keen on needles."

"Is she all right?" Kaylee asked from the door. Mal looked round: his crew were standing looking into the infirmary.

Freya smiled. "You shouldn't have come back on my account," she admonished gently. "You were all having too much fun."

"Zoe lost all our money anyway," Jayne put in. The woman in question gave him one of her looks and he backed away a millimetre.

"Who's Elena Rostov?" Simon asked suddenly.

Freya jerked, looking up at him. "What?"

"Eric said you were Elena Rostov. Who is she?"

Freya gazed into his face, serious, doctorly. She sighed. "No-one." She pushed off from the bed, jarring her stomach again but she ignored it as she passed the others, heading for the cargo bay and the bunks. She reached the bulkhead door before Mal spoke.

"Freya." It wasn't a request.

She stopped, her hand on the wall. Closing her eyes she paused, very still, then opened them again to gaze into the bay, looking but not seeing.

"What's going on?" Jayne asked, but he was ignored.

"Freya," Mal said again, this time in a gentler tone.

She started to speak as she turned, looking at all of them clustered outside the infirmary. "Elena Rostov is dead. She died in the fire at the Academy." Her gaze stopped on Mal. "But she's who I used to be."

"Did I miss something?" Jayne asked.

"I'll tell you later," Kaylee whispered, then turned to Simon. "Who's Elena Rostov?"

"Eric Lon told me. He bumped into Freya –"

"You knew him?" Mal interrupted, surprised.

"He was a tutor of mine in medical school. He says he met Freya once."

"I don't remember him," Freya admitted.

"So if Elena Rostov is – sorry – was you, I'd sure like to know who the hell Freya Nordstrom is," Mal said, crossing his arms.

"She was my best friend." Freya dropped into one of the easy chairs, favouring her stomach. "We met first day at the Academy. They put us in the same rooms." She smiled at the only happy memory she had of that place. "We hit it off straight ways. I couldn't believe my luck." She even chuckled. "We told each other everything, and she admitted she had been going to be Companion. It was her life's dream." The smile faded and her voice took on a cynical tinge. "But how could she turn down the offer of an education like the one they said we'd get?" She felt anger building, and took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing. Mal, watching her closely, realised the effort it was taking to stay in control. "They were good as their word in the beginning. Treated us like we were special. Whatever we wanted, we got. It was only after a few months …" She couldn't finish.

River nodded, holding onto Simon's am. She, more than anyone there, knew what Freya had gone through, why she wouldn't talk about it. To the others, though, this was a revelation, and Jayne and Kaylee exchanged astonished looks.

Finally Freya continued. "When it all went wrong we kept each other sane. Until the day she didn't come back. I knew they'd gone too far – I heard the screams in my head."

"She died?" Mal asked quietly into the silence.

Freya nodded. "I felt it happen. And there was nothing I could do." There was such deep bitterness, such bleakness that they all felt it. "At that moment I knew we had no chance of survival."

"But you did survive," River put in, squeezing Simon's arm. "Like me."

"Sometimes I wonder." Freya drew a leg up onto the seat and hugged her knee.

Mal stirred, stepping forward and squatting in front of her. "So you lied to me about being called to be a Companion? That was Freya?"

She looked into his face and he was surprised to see her eyes were wet. Freya – Elena – whoever – didn't hardly ever cry. "No, Mal. I never lied to you. I was going to the training school – that's one of the reasons we became so close so quickly."

Simon was shaking his head. "But a Rostov. They're an important family in the Alliance."

"I can't help that," Freya said. "Can't help what I was born to."

"Our parents used to dine with them," Simon went on. A dark look suddenly crossed his face. "They were the ones who recommended the Academy." He cursed, unexpectedly, and looked at his sister.

"I didn't know about it," Freya promised. "I was already dead."

"I remember my father saying it was such a shame they'd lost their daughter. That was you?"

"I used to be. But after the fire, when my healer told me I had to choose a new name, I could only think of one."

"Freya Nordstrom," Mal supplied. "But didn't that little girl have family of her own?"

Freya shook her head. "Her parents died when she was barely a year old, and she was brought up in an Alliance house. I had no worries of anyone come to me and expecting to find someone else."

Simon had been thinking. "The Rostovs are still alive. Shouldn't you have told them?"

Freya half smiled. "I don't think that would be such a good idea. Like you said, they're staunch Alliance supporters. I doubt they'd be too pleased to learn that their daughter is not only alive, but that she was a Browncoat, fought for the Independents. They'd never live it down."

Simon was about to say something else, but Kaylee interrupted. "Won't that man tell them anyway?"

Simon nodded. "I'll find him now and speak to him. Try and persuade him." He hurried towards the bay doors.

"I'd take that as a kindness," Freya called.

The others followed Simon, apart from Freya and Mal, who said thoughtfully, "So are you rich?"

"Elena Rostov was. Freya barely has two credits to rub together." She took a small handful of bills from her pocket.

"You still carry it with you?" Mal asked, surprised.

"Jayne's still on board."

"Point taken."

---

"Did you see him?" Kaylee asked as Simon walked back into the cargo bay.

"Mmn. I found him in town." The young doctor took a deep breath. "It took some persuading, but I think he's not going to tell anyone."

"What'd you tell him?" Mal asked, coming down the stairs from the bridge.

Simon looked up. "I said that there had been a rift in the family, and they had disowned her. It would be a scandal if anyone found out she was here, out in the borders. Could ruin their reputation."

"Guess that's pretty true, apart from the disowning part," Mal said approvingly. "And he bought it?"

"I think so."

"But?" Mal prompted. "There's a 'but' hanging around there somewhere."

"I'm just wondering if it wouldn't be a good thing to leave this planet as soon as we can. In case he takes it into his mind to come and have a little chat." Simon glanced towards the infirmary and the guest quarters. "We're still wanted fugitives, and I'm not …"

"What, doctor?".

"I'm not sure I'd trust Eric Lon not to consider turning us in."

Mal nodded, his thumbs hitched into his pants. "I think you might be right. But we ain't going anywhere until noon. Cargo ain't arriving until then."

"Then River and I will stay on board." Simon sighed. "No point in making trouble come to us."

"Freya'll stay put too." Mal headed back towards the bunks. "Sooner we're off this rock, the better."

---

"Why don't you trust him?" Kaylee asked, watching Simon as he tidied up, putting things back in their proper place, almost caressing them as he did so. He loved being a doctor, that much was clear, even out here in the black.

He turned to look at her. "I don't know," he admitted. "It's just a feeling."

"Did you trust him before?" She crossed her arms, looking at him with an expression so like Mal's that he had to suppress a grin.

"I guess. But there's always been something … " He struggled to find the right words. "Eric was always ambitious, would do almost anything to get on. He didn't stay long once I'd finished my training, but he was always on the look out for the next step. He wasn't going to be happy without an appointment to the Medical Elect."

"That would be good?"

Simon nodded, leaning back on the counter. "I once aspired to that."

"And instead you get to come and play with us," she said, moving closer to him so he could smell her scent, a mixture of engine grease and warm skin. "Miss it?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. "I wouldn't be human if I didn't. But I've got something a whole lot better." He put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. "I wouldn't exchange this, _wo di lian ren_. Not for all the prefectures in the Alliance."

She giggled a little. "Good to know," she murmured.

---

Freya walked out of the common area into the cargo bay, intent on the book in her hand. She was trying to get her head around the different families in it, but so far failing miserably, as she had always failed. Still, the coincidence of the names was …

She turned as she heard crying outside, looking into the bright early morning sunshine, squinting to see what had made that sound. Just outside the bay door was a man holding the arm of a child, and she was trying to get away from him. It looked like the girl from last evening, the one she'd given the toy to, one of 'the lost'.

"Hey, what's going on?" she called, heading towards them.

The man looked up, a scowl on his face, then let go of the child and strode off.

Freya stepped to the ground, favouring her stomach a little, and said, "Are you okay, sweetie?"

The child stared at her for a moment then ran off. Freya followed, wanting to make sure she was okay, but after only a minute she realised she could no longer see the child, and came to a stop.

"Excuse me?" A young man came up to her. "Can you tell me where I can find a ship called Serenity?" he asked.

Freya smiled at him. "Sure," she said, half-turning to the Firefly sitting behind her. She felt a sting on her arm, like an insect, and looked down, surprised to see the man with a hypo in his hand. "What the _tyen shia_ …" She couldn't finish – a noise like a train was filling her ears, and she only half-felt falling and being caught before the dark fog in her brain drowned her.


	5. Passion: Part II

"She ain't on board, sir," Zoe said, rejoining the captain in the cargo bay.

"Mal!" Simon shouted from outside. He was running towards them, carrying something, River at his heels. He held it out. "It's hers – I saw her reading it before."

Mal took the book, staring at the lurid cover and the title of War and Peace in large red letters. "How long since anyone saw her?" he asked, holding his emotions tightly within himself.

"Breakfast …" Simon offered.

"Yeah, me too," Jayne said, moving his gun in its holster. "Not since."

"I saw her reading in the common area," River said, shaking her head. "She's too far."

"Too far?" her brother asked. "What do you mean?"

"Is she off-world already?" Mal said.

"I think so," River admitted. "But I can't …"

Simon looked at Mal. "It's the Naxom. It affects River's ability to see Freya."

"Do you think someone snatched her, sir?" Zoe asked quietly.

"Til we get a better idea, I think that may be the case." He looked at the others. "Get to the town. See if you can pick up anything. I'll call in a few favours, see if I can –"

"Mal." River said his name almost in a whisper, but it stopped him cold. "I found this." She held out her hand, palm up, something lying in it, glittering.

"_Tah muh duh_," Mal murmured, lifting the chain, the small silver Firefly hanging brokenly from it.

---

Freya awoke slowly, aware of a throbbing in her skull. She was also cold. As she returned to full consciousness she realised she was locked to a bed, metal slats above and below her that that dug into her flesh. Her bare flesh.

"You're awake. Good." A face moved into view. Eric Lon.

"What the _da-shiong bao-jah-shr duh la doo-tze_ do you think you're doing?" Freya struggled against the metal across her chest.

"Lie still. You'll only hurt yourself. Although I see that isn't exactly an unusual occurrence." He pushed at the barely healed wound on her stomach, and she took in a sharp breath. "Young Simon Tam, he does good work." He looked into her face. "I was going to turn him in, but somehow I think you might be the greater prize."

Freya gritted her teeth as he pressed harder. "I hope it's worth getting killed over."

"Oh, it will be. The Alliance will be amazed that you're still alive. They'll give me just about anything to have you back."

"I doubt it."

"Oh, don't underestimate yourself, Elena."

"Freya! My name's Freya."

"Your name is what I choose it to be." He leaned closer, his face dark and determined. "Afterwards, you'll agree with me."

Despite herself, Freya shivered. "After what?"

Lon nodded to a technician standing by a console. "Turn her." The bed began to revolve on its axis, until she hung face down, unable to see what was happening. Lon continued to talk quite conversationally. "I have a notion those quaint little symbols have something to do with your control. Shall we see?"

"Sir, should we be doing this?" the young technician said, his voice trembling a little. "I mean, those people she was with –"

"Get out," Lon said, not raising his voice. "I don't need you here."

The technician hurried from the room as Lon picked up the pipette from the metal trolley.

Unable to tell what he was doing, the first touch of the liquid on the top cartouche made her scream as it ate into her flesh. She bucked against the restraints. Through the haze of pain she seemed to hear her own voice: "_Power_." Then the burning began lower. "_Passion_." And finally in the small of her back, making her feel as if her whole body were aflame. She screamed again as the voice in her head said: "_Enlightenment_." Mal's voice seemed to ask: "_Why those three?_" As she sank into the agony she heard her own voice: "_With great passion can come great power. But without enlightenment the world is dark_."

---

"Captain." Zoe touched Mal on the arm and he jerked awake, and for a moment he couldn't remember where he was. Then he realised he'd fallen asleep at the dining table, his head pillowed on his arms.

"What? What is it?"

"A vid, sir. About Freya."

He was on his feet in a moment, his chair falling back, running before it had even hit the floor. He leaped up the steps to the bridge. On the vid a young man was looking back at him, an unhappy expression on his face. "Captain Reynolds?" the man asked.

"That's me. You got news of Freya Nordstrom."

The man leaned closer. "She's on this ship. I'm sending the co-ordinates now. Hurry. You don't know what he's doing to her."

"Who the hell are you?" Mal asked, gripping the console.

"It doesn't matter. I won't be here when you come. But don't wait." He closed the connection and static filled the screen.

Mal switched the vid off, turning to stare at Zoe.

"Do you think he's on the level, sir?" she asked.

"Call them back," he said. "Get the others back here now. We're going." He sank into the pilot's chair and pulled up the co-ordinates, a small moon more than a day's full burn from where they were.

---

_You can get used to anything_. She'd said that to Simon, not long ago. But she didn't want to get used to this. Her back was on fire, and she was mewling with the pain, desperate to move away from it but unable to do so. She couldn't even curl into a ball and protect herself. A voice kept talking in her ear, one voice, filtering through the fog of suffering in her mind, dripping words and suggestions like slivers of ice into the conflagration in her soul. She wanted it to stop, to beg and plead for release, for someone to help her, to stop the darkness that was gathering.

---

They came up on the blind side of the moon, little more than a rock. By this time Mal had planned, discarded, and planned again, until all he wanted to do was go in with all guns blazing. For the past day he'd said nothing, just sat on the bridge staring out at the stars, his temper wound up so tight he was in danger of snapping. He'd eaten the food Kaylee had prepared, brought to him on a tray by Zoe, but hadn't moved. Now, though, down in the cargo bay as the doors opened he checked the cartridge in his gun, settled his shoulders more securely in his brown coat, and looked around his crew. They were all there, even Kaylee, ready to go get Freya. He nodded and they headed out.

"It don't look like they're overly guarded," Jayne said, dropping back down behind the rock next to Mal. "There's a back door, easy to get in if Kaylee can pop the hatch."

"I can do it," the young mechanic said, her voice trembling just a little, but determined to help.

Mal nodded. "Jayne, Zoe."

The big merc led Kaylee away, Serenity's first mate following like a ghost.

Mal watched them go, then headed for the main airlock, River and Simon with him. As they stepped inside the open door, though, guns opened up and they had to quickly duck back.

"Captain," River breathed, nodding towards a door set in the wall just a few metres further in.

"You know where she is?" Mal asked, ignoring the shooting in front of them.

She looked into his blue eyes, hard like ice. "Second level, aft." She glanced at Simon. "Keep him safe and I'll take care of these."

Mal nodded, tensing. River took a firmer grip on the two guns she carried and ran out into the room, going into a forward roll before leaping lightly to her feet and firing.

"River -" Simon began, but Mal pulled him forward, going through the door.

"Simon, stick with me," Mal ordered. The young doctor nodded.

They moved through the ship, encountering little resistance, and what there was they wiped away, leaving it bleeding on the decks.

"Mal, that's the infirmary," Simon said as they crouched down behind a bulkhead, waiting to get a bead on the man firing on them.

"Go," Mal said, raising up slightly and sending two bullets into the wall.

Simon hurried through the door, closing it behind him and hearing something thudding into it at head height. He was in an ante-chamber, a large glass window in front of him. He could see Eric Lon within, studying some print-outs. He didn't seem perturbed by the noise outside, and Simon realised the room must be soundproof. He moved to the door, palming the entry pad.

"Where is she, Eric?" Simon asked, stepping into the room.

"Simon?" Lon's jaw dropped. "How did you …"

"Where is Freya?"

"You mean Elena."

"Her name is Freya," Simon said quietly, firmly, drawing his gun.

"I thought you didn't carry a weapon," Lon said, backing up.

"And I thought you were a good doctor." Simon held the gun steady, not moving it an inch. "Where is she?"

Lon's eyes darted to a door set into the far wall. "How did you know where to come?" he asked.

"Information," Simon said.

"That damn technician," Lon said to himself.

"He didn't like what you were doing. What have you done to her, Eric?"

"I just … do you know how much the Alliance will pay for her? Do you have any idea what I'll get?"

Simon didn't get the chance to ask. Mal, coming into the room, his eyes blazing, fired.

"Where, Simon?" Mal asked, not watching the body fall as Zoe and Jayne followed him inside.

"Over there." Simon nodded, unable to drag his eyes from the dying man.

---

The door to the cell opened, and bright white light fell in a bar across her face and body as she lay in a foetal position on the floor.

"Freya?" A man's voice, and a body silhouetted against the light. "Doc!"

Someone knelt by her head, smoothing sweat-soaked hair from her face. "It's okay – I'm here. What's that smell?"

Another joined them. "I need light."

"Get those lights on!"

Suddenly the cell was bright.

"Oh my god."

"What the …" The man swore in Chinese, long and hard. "What have they done?"

"It looks like acid. I'll need to neutralise it before we get her back to Serenity."

Serenity? The word fought through the fog in her mind. Serenity? It seemed familiar.

"Zoe, find the antataxquin. Should be some in the med bay."

"Is she going to be all right?"

"I don't know. This, this is bad. What they did. When I get her to the infirmary I might know more, Mal."

"Mal?" She forced her lips to move. "Mal?"

Malcolm Reynolds, captain of Serenity, hero of the wars of independence, leaned down as close as he could to Freya's face to hear the small voice. "I'm here, darlin'. You're going to be fine. And they're all dead."

---

"Doc?" Mal asked as Simon finally came out of the infirmary.

Simon sighed. "I've done what I can. I was really worried – the acid had gone deep, and I was concerned about her spine …"

"Spine?" Jayne sat up straighter. "She gonna be able to walk?"

"She was lucky – the acid didn't have time to burn that far in. But if we'd been any later …" He didn't finish, he didn't need to.

"But she'll be okay," the big man prompted.

"She'll heal, if that's what you mean. Physically, anyway. Psychologically, I don't know what Eric did to her. But … I can guess."

"He tortured her," Mal said.

"Yes."

Mal remembered his bullet taking the man in the throat, and wished he had hit him elsewhere. He should have taken time to kill him. "Is there anything else you can do?"

"Make her comfortable. I can't replace the tattoo, Mal. That's gone. I can accelerate skin growth, maybe use a graft on the worst areas, but she'll never be … she'll always have the scars."

"But she'll live."

"Yes."

"Then that's … thanks, doc."

Simon watched his captain stare into the infirmary, and wondered whether he truly understood. Then he realised he did, more, maybe than anyone else.

---

Simon could only patch, not replace the tattoos. As Freya healed, it wasn't only the scar tissue building on her back that pulled and tugged at her. So did the darkness that had once threatened to overwhelm her. She grew afraid. Externally she was okay, acting normal, laughing with Kaylee, sleeping with Mal. Only River watched her with eyes that were big, aware of the fight going on inside her, the battle to stay sane.

Then one day, on Persephone, she took Mal to bed. He was surprised, to say the least, but not unco-operative. They were waiting for cargo, nothing to do but general maintenance work, and he had the time. But it wasn't their usual love-making. When they finally lay in perspiration soaked sheets, she felt tears flowing down her face, turning away from Mal so he couldn't see. She waited until his breathing eased, and he slept the sleep of the post coital, watching his face relax. Through her tears she recorded every line, every inch, recalling from her memory his blue eyes, so often angry but so often tender. But now the decision had been made.

When Mal woke he reached for her, but her side of the bunk was empty. He wasn't too concerned at first, but then looked around the cabin. Her clothes were gone. And her bag. Now he began to feel something at the nape of his neck, a raising of the hairs on the back of his head. Throwing back the cover he slid out of the bunk, going to open the drawer where she kept her stuff. It was empty. Even her incense burner that sat alongside his shaving gear was gone. There was nothing left of her.

He swore. Struggling into his pants, he threw a shirt onto his back, neglecting to button it, pulling his boots on as he activated the switch to open the door above the ladder.

Manhandling Zoe out of the way, he ran towards the cargo bay and out into Persephone's heat and light. People stopped to stare at the man standing in the dust, his shirt open, his braces flapping. But Mal didn't see them. He was watching a transport ship take off from a distance away. As sure as his heart was still beating, as sure as he felt an emptiness inside, he knew she was on board. That she was leaving Serenity.


	6. Interregnum

Mal watched as his crew efficiently dealt with all the people, herding them into one of the carriages. Jayne stood guard, ready to shoot if necessary, but that was highly unlikely. The passengers were scared, far too frightened to make any trouble with this big man.

"All secure," Zoe said, rejoining Mal at the door into the last compartment, where their haul currently sat.

"Shiny," he said, a grim smile on his face. He knocked with the butt of his gun on the door. "We're coming in," he called. "Best be standing in the middle of the room with your hands up, you don't want to get shot." He nodded to Zoe.

His first mate set the small charge on the lock, and they stood back. Ten seconds later there was a pop and the door swung inwards. Immediately a shot whined over their heads.

"Now, that was just what I said not to do," Mal said tetchily.

Zoe tossed a smoke grenade into the carriage and pretty soon the compartment was filled with a grey fog that stung the eyes and choked the throat.

"Now, you gonna come out quiet, or do we have to come in there and kill you?" Mal asked, leaning back against the wall.

"I'm … I'm coming out!" came a voiced, wracked with coughing.

"Fine. Just make it with your hands up."

An older man staggered to the door, surrounded by billowing smoke, tears rolling down his cheeks, a pistol in his hand. Mal raised his gun, his finger very close to the trigger.

"Sir," Zoe said quietly, stepping forward and taking the man's weapon from nerveless fingers.

Mal nodded and lowered his hand. "Best be getting the booty, then," he said, pulling the kerchief he had tied around his neck into place. He headed into the compartment, coming out a few moments later with a box under his arm. "Call the ship," he ordered.

His first mate nodded, watching her captain closely.

---

"He wouldn't'a done it this way before, Jayne," Kaylee said, stirring the soup dispiritedly. "He'd'a had some plan, got onto the train without having to scare all those folks."

"Damn near shot the baggage car guard," Jayne admitted. "That ain't like him. Me, now I coulda. But the Cap?"

"It's Freya," Inara said unhappily. "Since she left, he's been like this."

"Can't we find her? Tell her to come home?" Kaylee asked in a small voice. "Maybe the Cap'd like that."

"He might have, if he knew why she'd gone." Inara idly noticed a loose thread on her over-gown as she sat at the table and she began to fiddle with it. "It was such a shock to him, and he doesn't know how to deal with it."

"It's been three months, 'Nara. And he's getting worse."

"I know," Inara agreed, looking into Kaylee's worried eyes. "If we knew where she was, maybe …"

"Got our own damn psychic and she can't even tell us?" Jayne asked, picking up the end of a carrot and munching on it.

"I've tried," Kaylee said. "So's Simon, but she won't say. All either of us could get out of her was that Freya was afraid of the dark."

"Afraid of the dark?" Inara repeated, surprised.

"That was it. I didn't know what she meant."

"No. Neither do I," Inara said quietly, but privately wondering if maybe she did.

"Can't Zoe do something?" Jayne asked. "I mean, it ain't like I get treated any different, but …" The big man shook his head. "I ain't stupid," he said. "Even I can see he's headin' for a fall."

"We have to stop him," Kaylee added.

Inara nodded in agreement. "It wouldn't take much for that man to –"

"To what, Inara?" Mal asked from the doorway.

She stood up and looked at him. "For you to commit murder," she said finally.

"No-one's making you stay." He looked around at them. "None of you. You wanna leave, then best get gone."

"You don't mean that," Kaylee said, white faced.

"Can't have a crew around me who ain't loyal," Mal said, turning around and heading for his bunk. "If I can't rely on them to be behind me one hundred percent, they ain't worth the having."

There was an appalled silence for a moment, then Kaylee looked at Inara. "He doesn't mean it, does he?"

"Not really, _mei-mei_," Inara said. "He doesn't know what he's saying, Kaylee."

"Maybe not," Jayne put in. "But he's gonna end up getting us killed."

---

River landed Serenity at the Eavesdown Docks, somewhat shakily, and Mal immediately took their stolen property to Badger.

"Pretty, ain't it?" the little man said, admiring the golden statue inside the fitted wooden case.

Mal shrugged. He didn't care, one way or the other. He was getting paid, that was all that mattered. "Where's our money?" he asked.

"No small talk?" Badger asked, closing the box and handing it to one of his men. "No banter about the war, 'bout how much better I am than you?"

"Ain't got the inclination," Mal admitted.

Badger smiled. "Yeah, things ain't exactly been going your way lately, have they?" He sat down behind the large desk again. "Heard you're not so honourable now."

Mal just stood, letting the man insult him. No purpose in getting angry about it. He could feel Jayne, to his left, bristling, but ignored it. "Just wanna get paid."

Badger clicked his fingers and a lackey tossed Mal a small bag. He didn't even open it, just handed it to Zoe. "Don't even want to know if I've gypped you?" Badger asked, almost surprised.

"You know what'd happen if you did," Mal said.

"Quite a comedown for you," Badger said, shaking his head. "More like the rest of us."

Inside a little voice was shouting at Mal, telling him that he wasn't like Badger, that he didn't have to do this, but he pushed it down, away, until the shouting was mostly muffled. "Just working, Badger. Doing business. Keeping flyin'."

"Well, I might have another job for you, won't know until tomorrow. You hanging around until then?"

"Sure."

"Don't want to know what it is? Could be messy."

"It's a job." The voice was adding stabbing pains in his guts too, but he ignored these as well.

"Well, ain't that a spectacle worth seeing," Badger marvelled. "Come back 'bout noon. See if I've got anything solid."

"Shiny." Mal turned and walked out, followed by Jayne and Zoe, all the while not listening to the voice in the back of his mind telling him he was going crazy.

---

"Simon?" Kaylee said quietly, standing in the doorway to his room.

"_Lian ren_," he said, smiling, but the smile faltered when he saw her face. "What is it?"

"I …" She couldn't speak.

"Kaylee, whatever it is, you can tell me." He got up from where he was sitting and took her hand, leading her back to the bed.

"I got a job," she said quickly.

"What?"

"A job. Well, been offered one. By Craddock."

"The one with the Mongoose?"

Kaylee nodded. "He wants me to start straight away."

"Oh." Simon looked into her face. "Doesn't that ship have a Capisson engine? Don't they fall out of the sky?" he asked, trying to make her laugh. It didn't work.

"Not if I kept her going." She bit her lip. "If'n I take the job."

"Are you going to?"

"I … I don't know!" Kaylee said, bursting into tears.

"Hush, hush," Simon said, taking her into his arms and cradling her. "Let's talk about this."

"I don't want to go," Kaylee said, holding onto him tightly. "I want to stay with my girl, with you, but the Cap'n … Jayne's right, he's gonna get us all killed, and I don't want to be around to see that."

"He's grieving," Simon said. "If Freya were dead he could get over it, but as she isn't –"

Kaylee looked up into his face, her eyes wide. "You saying it would be better if she _were_ dead?"

"No, no, not that at all," Simon insisted. "Just that he … he doesn't know how to deal with this. So he's withdrawn inside."

"No he ain't," Kaylee said firmly. "There ain't nothing inside no more. Not even a little bit of him left. She took it all with her," she added bitterly.

"Not her fault," River said from the doorway, surprising them both. "She was afraid. Afraid of the dark."

"You keep saying that," Kaylee cried, "but you don't say what it means!"

"Afraid she'd kill us all." The young girl wafted away sadly, leaving Kaylee and Simon staring after her. "And it's killing him," she added on the air.

"You think that's true?" Kaylee said. "That she might've killed us?"

"What the Alliance did to her …" Simon began, then paused. He'd never talked about this with Kaylee, but maybe now … "Without her tattoo, maybe she felt as if she was losing her grip on reality."

"I don't understand," Kaylee moaned.

"It was her lifeline, her grasp on … I'm saying this badly, I know. But it shed light into her soul. Stopped her being crazy."

"Freya wasn't crazy!"

"She thought she was." He tightened his grip. "And I think that tattoo had a lot to do with keeping the darkness at bay."

"But she wouldn't really have killed us, would she?"

"I don't know, _tian xin_." Simon smoothed the tears from her face. "I don't know." He lifted her chin. "Are you really thinking of leaving the ship?" he asked, his heart in his throat.

"I … if things don't … if he …" Kaylee shook her head. "I don't see as I have a choice. But I don't want to leave you."

"Leave me?" Simon asked, surprised. "Do you think I'd stay on board if you weren't?"

"But River loves Serenity."

"So do you." He sighed. "But there's no need to make a decision right now, is there? Won't Craddock wait a few days?"

"Maybe," Kaylee conceded, sniffing.

"Then tell him you need to think. Maybe things will change."

"Don't see how. Less'n she comes home."

---

Zoe was sitting quietly on the bridge, staring out at the bright light of Persephone. She wasn't looking, though, just thinking.

"Mind if I join you?" Inara asked.

Serenity's first mate looked around. "Please."

The Companion stepped over the sill and sat down in the co-pilot's chair. "I didn't know if you wanted to be disturbed – you looked pensive."

"Just thinking on things."

"Mal?"

"Mostly."

Inara glanced out of the window. "You know Kaylee's been offered another job."

Zoe looked surprised. "No, I didn't."

"River told me. And if he goes, so will Simon. And River. And Jayne isn't sure he's staying, either." She looked at the other woman. "He's breaking up the family."

"He's breaking more than that."

"I know. Isn't there something we can do? Say?"

"Apart from lock him in his bunk until he comes to his senses, not really," Zoe admitted. "And it would be a long wait."

"Do you think Freya knew he'd be like this?"

Zoe shrugged. "I ain't got an idea, 'Nara. Though my instinct says she must have."

"Then why –"

"Because the alternative must have been worse."

Inara stared at her friend. "That bad?"

"For her to leave, not say a word, yeah, I think it must."

"If only the Shepherd were …" Inara trailed off.

"Yeah, he'd've had a few words to say, no doubting that. Might have made the Cap listen, too. At least they could have had an argument about it."

"Yes, he won't even do that, will he?" Inara agreed sadly.

"He could even have shouted at Wash, had a stand up row, might've cleared the air."

Inara couldn't help smiling just a little at the thought. "That would have been something to see."

"That it would. Only now he just takes anything gets offered and doesn't say a word."

The smile disappeared from Inara's face. "What do we do, Zoe?"

The dark woman looked back out of the window. "You got a choice, Inara. You only rent your shuttle, you can leave whenever you want. I can't."

Inara looked at her, but understood completely. He was her Captain, her Sergeant, and she was at his side, no matter how stupidly he was behaving. It didn't make her have to like it, though.

---

Jayne had Vera in pieces on his bed, cleaning the barrel with a long, thin brush.

"Are you going?" River asked, stepping off the ladder in silent, bare feet.

"Jesus!" Jayne said, nearly dropping his tools. "You creep up like that, you're likely to get hurt, girl."

"Are you going?" she insisted. "Leaving?"

"Ain't decided." He went back to cleaning Vera.

"Can I help?" she asked, gliding across the floor to him.

"Nope. Don't need no help."

She reached out and stroked the barrel he was holding, creating a certain feeling of uncomfortableness in him. "Pretty," she said. "But you're not." She smiled at him.

"Gorramit, River, go play with someone else!" Jayne said, feeling as if she was reading the thoughts off the back of his skull, in big ill-formed letters.

"She doesn't want you," the young psychic said suddenly. "She only wants one, and that's not you."

"What the hell are you talking about, girl?" For once he really didn't have a clue.

River drifted back to the ladder. "Just wait," she said, climbing back up, her toes curling around the rungs. "Just wait."

---

Badger wasn't right. He was still honourable, still a soldier, still something more. Lying there on his bunk, knowing the scent of her had finally gone from the blankets that lay across him, he fought with the demons inside. He knew what his crew were thinking, yet he couldn't stop himself. He didn't want to be like this, empty, hollow, like some shell of a man that only walked and talked because of sheer force of will. He couldn't let this happen to him, but it was so easy, so easy to just close himself off from everyone and just let it all slip away …

"Mal."

"Wha –" Mal opened his eyes, struggling to escape sleep.

Freya was standing in the room, by the table, holding the capture he had been staring at for hours that evening. "You still have it," she said, playing the image. Her voice came from it, laughing at something Kaylee had said while recording it.

"You're a dream. You're not real," Mal insisted, sitting up on his bunk.

"You're right. I am a dream. Or maybe you're wrong and I'm not. Who knows what reality is?"

"I can't be having with philosophy this time of night. Makes me too wakeful."

"Then no philosophy." She put the capture down and turned to him. "I wanted to …"

"What? Gloat? Make me feel even emptier than I was before?"

"No. To ask you to stop."

"Stop what?"

"This." She raised her arms.

"I'm still flying."

"And that's enough? You're taking jobs you'd never have touched, and it's marking you."

"Freya, I'm not a good man, no matter what you seem to think of me. I drink, I lie, I kill. That's no definition of goodness I can believe."

"But you are. You don't take advantage of the innocent, and I've known you protect the helpless. It took a good man to do what you did about Miranda."

"No. It took an obstinate son of a bitch who wouldn't lie down when he was killed."

"Then that's my definition of a good man."

"You're just a dream. What do you know?" he said bitterly.

"Not much," Freya conceded. "But I know the way you're heading, and …"

"What do you care?" Despite being certain none of this was real, Mal was getting angry. "Just let me get on with things. With my life."

"So this is it, is it?" Freya asked. "Your life? How it's going to be from now on? Pushing away your family? Because that's what they are, your crew – Zoe, Kaylee, even Simon and River, Jayne. And they will leave. So you'll end up an old man, captaining an increasingly decrepit ship, relying on what little help you can get, until the day comes you can't fix her no more. Then what? You point Serenity out into the black and open the hatches? That gonna happen?" She turned from the table and fixed him with her dark eyes. "Don't let it, Mal. I love you. That ain't gonna change."

"If you loved me you wouldn't have left."

"If I didn't love you I wouldn't have."

"I don't understand."

"You will one day. But you have to promise me something. Don't let them leave, Mal. Hold on. Just a little while longer."

"Why? What good will it do?"

"You'll be surprised, Mal. You will be surprised." She crossed the floor and leaned over, laying her lips in a tender kiss on his.

He opened his eyes and jerked awake, sitting up. He looked around, reaching out for her, but the room was empty. He touched his lips: he could still taste her on them, feel her kiss like a benediction. And his body had responded to her presence, an aching replacing the emptiness inside him. He stood up and walked to the table: the capture, which he was sure he had placed face down, now lay face up, its image frozen on Freya's smiling face, a small broken silver Firefly next to it.

---

Breakfast was a quiet affair, as it had become over the past few weeks, with everyone just eating, trying to get out of the dining area as quickly as possible. Only this time Mal wasn't sitting in his chair, glowering silently, staring into his bowl.

"Do you think he's all right?" Kaylee whispered to Simon. "Only he's usually the first one here."

"I'm sure he's fine," Simon assured her. "Probably just overslept."

"Sure. That must be it."

Zoe stirred the porridge and dumped two spoonfuls into her bowl. "Hadn't someone better go see where the captain is?" she asked.

"I ain't going," Jayne said, shaking sweetener onto his breakfast. "Way he's been lately, he'll probably shoot me. You go, you're first mate."

Zoe glared at him then nodded. "I suppose I –"

"No need," Mal said from the doorway.

"Captain?" Kaylee stared at him. "Are you okay?"

"Shiny, Kaylee. Shiny." Although he didn't look it. His clothes were crumpled, as if he'd slept in them, and he looked, for all the world, like he'd been crying, but he didn't cry. Yet there was a smile on his face. A genuine, warm smile when he looked at her.

Kaylee glanced at Simon, who nodded, wondering whether the captain would notice if he walked off and got his medbag. Some kind of sedative might be in order here.

Mal saw the look, and said, quickly, "It's all right, _mei-mei_. I ain't crazy."

"No, sir?" Zoe said, risking life and limb.

"Well, maybe I was, but I ain't now. Well, not so much."

"What happened?" Simon asked.

"Nothing that need concern you. Let's just say …" He paused a moment. "Let's just say I've been brought to my senses."

"Captain?" Kaylee still looked concerned.

"I'm sorry," Mal said, looking from one to the other of them. "I shouldn't have … what I was doing … I'm sorry."

There was complete silence. For Mal to apologise was about as likely as him crying.

"That's … thank you, sir," Zoe said.

Then he said quickly, as if the words were just waiting to come out, "Don't leave." They all looked at each other. "I know you've been talking about it, and River told me about that offer from Craddock," he added, looking at Kaylee.

"I wasn't going to –"

"Yes you were." He smiled sadly. "And I wouldn't'a blamed you." He looked around at the rest. "Nor any of you, not the way I've been. And I can't promise there won't be times when I go to that dark place again, but I'll try not to."

"Ain't your fault," Jayne said unexpectedly.

"I think it probably is," Mal said, shaking his head.

"What about Badger's job, sir?" Zoe asked.

"We'll see what it is. Make up our minds then. Make us a decent plan if we do." He smiled again, much more like the old Mal. "Oh, and Zoe?"

"Yes sir?"

"Get hold of that pilot who was looking for a job. River's a mite erratic at the moment, and I don't want us crashing into a solid moon if I can help it."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, everybody, just get on with your breakfast. That was all I wanted to say." He turned to leave.

"Have you spoken to Inara, sir?" Zoe asked.

"Just going there now."

As Mal disappeared down the stairs, Kaylee turned to Simon. "Is he okay?" she asked.

Simon could only shrug, but Zoe said, thoughtfully, "Wait and see."


	7. Enlightenment: Part I

That day at breakfast, no-one seemed particularly hungry. Mal was pushing his food around his plate, and Kaylee was drumming her fingers.

"Kaylee, I'd take it as a kindness if you could stop doing that?" he asked, dropping his spoon back down. "If you've finished go find something to do."

Kaylee looked up apologetically then down at her still-drumming fingers. She pulled her hand back under the table. "Sorry, cap'n. Don't rightly know what's wrong with me. I feel …" She couldn't find the right word, and looked to Simon for help.

"Apprehensive?" he suggested.

"Maybe. Like something's about to happen. Maybe a storm."

Zoe looked at her across the table. "I checked the weather this morning – there's no sign of any change."

"That's just what it feels like," Kaylee explained. She looked around the table. "And I think you all feel it too." From the looks she got back she knew she was right.

Mal shook himself. He wasn't about to admit he had been wondering himself why he felt so – antsy. Instead he said. "Well, we don't have time for any conjecture. Kaylee, you have that part to fix. Doc, you need to get those supplies in. The cargo will be here at noon and I want to take off immediately it's stowed. We've been here longer than I would reasonably have liked anyway."

The others nodded and muttered, pushing away from the table and ambling out of the dining room. For a long minute he sat, staring at the uneaten food on his plate, then he cursed in Chinese and stood up abruptly. He needed to get his head back from wherever it had gone.

---

It was gone noon, and the cargo had been settled into the bay. Kaylee said they were good to go, and their new pilot, Hank, was itching to get Serenity into the air. And still Mal felt a strange reluctance. He stood at the open cargo bay doors, staring out at the bright sunlight, not really seeing the mass of humanity trundling by.

"Sir?" Zoe came up behind him. We're all set.

"Hmmn." He sighed. "Yep. Guess we are." He followed her back inside and was about to hit the close button when he stopped and turned slowly. A figure was walking up the ramp, silhouetted against the bright day, carrying a large bag. It came further in, closer. Mal's jaw dropped and his heart missed more than one beat when he realised who it was.

"Hi, Mal," Freya said.

"_Tzao-gao."_

---

"Why did you leave like that? No note, no explanation …" Kaylee was grinning through her tears, and wouldn't let go of Freya's hand. The others were close by: only Mal stood further off, his arms crossed, his face carefully blank, his eyes darker than their usual blue.

"River was right." She acknowledged the young girl. "So much darkness. If I was going to … if I was going to be how I was, I didn't want to take you all down with me. It was better you didn't know." She squeezed Kaylee's hand and smiled slightly. "I reckoned I needed to find my teacher, my healer. I could only think that he might be able to help me again. But he moved around a lot, and I didn't know where to begin looking."

"We could have helped," Mal said shortly, the first words he'd spoken since they'd gathered in the dining area.

"I couldn't take that chance," Freya said sadly, her eyes fixed on him. "I was afraid that, if I lost control, if the darkness took me, I would wake up one night and kill you without a thought."

"Afraid of the dark," River said, and Mal's jaw tightened.

"Did you find him?" Simon asked.

"Yes." She tore her gaze from Mal to look at the young man. "Or, at least, his grave." She sighed. "It was such a god-forsaken planet, nothing but poor people. But he'd stayed, made a difference to their lives. Until this man came to town, wanting to take over. He killed my friend." Her voice turned bitter. "It had been recent, just a couple of months before I got there. And when the people asked me to help to avenge – I felt a great rage build inside me."

She glanced at Zoe. "You would have been proud of us. We mustered, we rallied, we fought – until there was just him and me. I so wanted to kill him. There he was on the ground in front of me, no weapons because I'd disarmed him, bloodied because I'd made him bleed, and I wanted to kill him so badly. I raised my gun, pointed it at his head – and all I could hear was a voice saying 'With great passion can come great power, but without enlightenment the world is dark.' And I felt the rage drain away. I lowered my gun and handed him over to the town's people. They gave him a fair trial and hanged him for the murder of my friend. He was still dead, but I didn't do it."

Freya gently disengaged her hand from Kaylee and stood up, walking towards Mal. When she was only a breath from him, she went on, her eyes on his, "Then, when the horse doctor was patching me up – he was stitching a cut on my back – he said, 'Great tattoo – what do those symbols mean?'"

Despite himself, Mal jerked. "Tattoo?"

Freya didn't respond, but undid her shirt, pulling it from her pants. Mal tried not to look at her nakedness, tried not to think of the times he'd kissed that skin, tried not to reach out and touch … but watched as she turned around, her back to him, holding the front of the shirt to cover her breasts. She let the back fall …

"_Tah muh duh_," he breathed, dropping his arms.

She turned back to the others could see. There, emblazoned on her back, was her glorious flame, the three cartouches undamaged, each of the three symbols intact. Kaylee stood up quickly, her chair clattering to the floor.

"Freya …" Inara began, but was unable to finish.

Only Simon had the self-control to stand and step close. He touched the tattoo, avoiding the sigils. The skin was soft, no scarring, totally unlike the way it was the last time he had seen it. "How …?"

Freya was gazing back at Mal, tears on her face. "He healed me. Even from the grave, my friend healed me."

---

"So what now?" Mal and Freya were alone in the galley, the atmosphere tense.

"I don't know," Freya admitted.

They looked at each other from opposite ends of the room, Freya sitting at the table between them.

"Were you thinking you could stay?" Mal was holding himself together, tightly wound as a watch spring, his arms crossed like a shield between her and his desires.

"I didn't know if I'd be welcome." She wanted to stand up, run to him, take his face in her hands and kiss every last worry line away.

"The others are mighty pleased to see you." His tone was non-committal, even if his brain was burning.

"They're not the captain." _I've missed you_, she wanted to say. So much it was almost too great to bear.

There was a pause. "We found a few places said they'd seen you." _Why did you run away from m_e?

"I got to some just after you'd left." _Let me come home_.

After another uncomfortable pause, Mal said, "So did you buy a ship?"

Freya shook her head. "No. I travelled as a passenger. I'd been part of this crew for so long it didn't seem right –"

Mal banged his fist onto the table, making Freya jump and a plate skitter to the floor. "You left! No note, no explanation. We made love and when I woke up you were gone! You almost broke Serenity apart. You almost broke me ..." He stopped, swallowing. "Do you think a member of my crew would do that?"

Freya looked at him, saw the anger consuming him. "I'm sorry."

"And you're thinking that's good enough?" Mal leaned on the table. "If I can't trust someone I can't be having them on my crew." He glared at her for a moment longer then stood up, crossing his arms and turning away so she didn't see the pain etched deeply on his face, didn't say the words that wanted to come spilling out.

Freya closed her eyes, her forehead creased. After a moment she sat up straighter, and when she opened her eyes again it was with a determined look. "No, you're right," she said. "I shouldn't have come back. I only wanted to explain, and I have, but –" She stood up. "I'll go. Goodbye, Mal." She paused a second, just to see if he would say something, maybe even beg her to stay, but his back was solid, radiating stubborn pride. She squared her shoulders and left the dining area. Passing through the cargo bay she encountered Kaylee.

"Freya?" the young engineer asked.

Freya stopped and put a hand onto the younger woman's face. She smiled slightly, then said, "See you around, Kaylee."

Kaylee stared after her as she walked out of the bay, picking up her bag en route, and back into the bright sunlight.

---

Mal felt someone come into the kitchen and began to turn. Then Inara hit him across the right cheek.

"You idiot!" she stormed at him.

"Wha –?" He touched the heated skin on his face.

"You lost her before and now you've let her walk out again!" Inara was as angry as Mal had ever seen her. "Are you so stupid?"

"I –"

She didn't let him begin. "Do you know what it took for her to come back?"

"Inara, if you would let me get a word in edgeways –"

"She knew what it might mean, what you might say, and, _wu de mah_, you totally lived down to her expectations!"

"_Bee-jway_!" Mal thundered loudly. "She left, all on her own account!"

"Which time, Mal? Which particular leaving is making you so angry?"

Mal took a deep breath and moved away a little. "In all honesty, I don't rightly know. I was coming to terms with what she did, and I thought it was me, something I'd done or not done, but now I know why … it's worse, Inara. She didn't trust us – trust me – to help her." The despair was evident in his voice, on his face.

"She didn't trust herself, Mal. You heard her. She was afraid of hurting you. She walked out of Serenity because she couldn't bear the thought of hurting you."

"It still hurt." God, more than hurt.

"Better the small hurt than the final thrust."

Mal felt his anger die. Instead he was left with an emptiness, a void he recognised. "I'm beginning to think I maybe didn't handle that the way I had intended."

"Oh, you're actually thinking, are you? Well, that's a start."

"Inara, I really don't think I can take this at the moment."

"So do something. Don't just stand there thinking – do something."

Mal glared at her for a long moment, then turned on his heel and ran out of the kitchen. He dropped down the metal stairs into the cargo bay, passing Kaylee who said, fretfully, "Cap, Freya's gone."

"I know, I know." He ran out of the bay.

Kaylee looked up at Inara, standing on the walkway above. "What's going on?" she asked.

"I think the Captain has just recovered his sanity."

---

"If you buy this ship it'll last a lifetime."

Freya looked up at the yellow spaceship, its shuttles a contrasting black. "It's a good ship," she agreed. "But I'm not sure it's quite what I'm looking for." She sighed. "I don't suppose you have any Fireflys around, do you?"

The dealer shook his head. "No call for them. Those that have them don't sell, either. I heard tell there was one at the docks, if you want to try your luck there."

Without thinking Freya turned towards that area, and saw Mal striding towards her. She turned quickly back. "Tell me some more about this boat," she said to the dealer.

"Freya!" Mal called. "I want – "

She didn't turn around. "If you've come to shout at me some more, I wouldn't bother."

"Will someone today please just let me finish?" Mal said in an exasperated, angry tone.

"Are you interested in this ship?" the dealer asked Freya.

"No, she's not," Mal said shortly.

"Yes, I am," Freya countered. "What's the engine like?"

"No, you're not." Mal was insistent.

Freya glanced back over her shoulder just once. "I should have done this before – gotten myself another ship, another crew. Gotten myself back out there to the black under no-one else's command."

"You don't want that," Mal said firmly.

"How the _diyu_ do you know what I want?" she asked, swallowing back the bitterness.

"Then you want this ship?" the dealer asked again, looking from one to the other of them.

"No!" Mal and Freya chorused together. The dealer backed off.

"Okay …" Mal took a deep breath. "Then what do you want?" he asked.

Freya stared up at the big yellow ship. "Can't we go back to how it was? Me pining for you and you ignoring me?"

"Is that what you really want?" Mal asked gently.

Freya finally turned around. "What I want is to be part of Serenity again. I want to come home. But most of all I want to lie in your bed next to you again."

Mal didn't speak for a moment. Then, "I don't know. I reckon you can come back, the others would take it as a kindness, but the rest …"

Freya smiled a little. "I suppose I'll take what I can get. Even the pining and ignoring."

"Good." Mal nodded and started to walk back to Serenity. "Don't take all day – I want to be taking off from this rock in ten minutes."

Freya stood, calculating, wondering just how much of what he had said he truly meant. Then she shrugged. It was, at least, going to be interesting finding out. She swung her bag up onto her shoulder and followed him home.


	8. Enlightenment: Part II

**ONE WEEK**

"Doctor?" Mal asked from the doorway. "You got a moment?"

Simon looked up from where he was taking inventory of his medical supplies. "It's your ship, captain."

"And as you pointed out, this is your infirmary," Mal said, stepping inside. "Although I'd ask you to bear the former in mind."

Simon's lips twitched. "What can I do for you?"

"Freya."

Simon nodded, knowing this conversation had always been on its way. "Perhaps we should go somewhere more comfortable?" he suggested.

"Don't want comfort, doctor. I want answers."

"I'm not sure I have any."

"Try."

"Her tattoo."

"Yeah. You saw it – hell, you worked on it after Lon burned it off her back. Unless I'm very much mistaken there ain't no way it could just grow back." Mal crossed his arms like a shield.

"A week ago I'd have agreed with you," Simon said, leaning back on the counter.

"So what's changed your mind?"

"Not changed," Simon put in quickly. "But I've been thinking, talking to River … about them, and the Academy."

"Go on."

"This isn't the first time Freya's recovered from something maybe she shouldn't."

"The swordfight." Red blood on yellow sand, and Mal shivered involuntarily.

"I know Inara was sure she hadn't hit any major organs, and I didn't disabuse her of that notion, but –"

"Doc, I know Freya nearly died."

"Thing is, Mal, she should have. Any normal person, anyone else on this ship, wouldn't have stood a chance." Simon shook his head. "I may be a good doctor, but even I can't perform miracles."

"It ain't the only time, Simon," Mal said quietly, remembering the ridge at Dhu Khang, kneeling in Freya's blood, tugging the braids from her shoulder and taking what he was sure was a final kiss … "Always thought she had nine lives, like a cat."

"I think it's more than that, Mal. I think the Academy … changed something." He bit his lip. "We don't know what they did to her there, all those years ago, and I doubt she could tell you even if you asked. But what if they … they boosted her healing capabilities somehow? Maybe she was always special in that area, and they increased it in some way?"

"Like your sister."

"River was always gifted, and probably psychic. But when they stripped her amygdala, left her open to everything …" The look on Simon's face was at once angry and thoughtful. "Imagine if it were Freya, Mal. A soldier who could take almost any damage, and heal quickly? Especially a psychic?"

Mal exhaled, blowing out his cheeks. "An almost perfect warrior."

"I know it sounds crazy. But do you have a better explanation for it?"

"No. No, I don't. Does your sister?"

Simon shrugged. "If she does she's not telling me."

"But the tattoo? It can't just grow back."

"It was part of her for so long, part of her psyche, her control … That's what Lon realised, I think, why he did what he did. But I don't know, Mal. Maybe her subconscious had enough power … I don't know."

"She's got scars, doc. Old ones. They ain't gone." Sometimes in the night, when they'd still been sleeping in the same bunk, he'd lain awake, wondering where each had come from, how she'd put herself in a position to get hurt, if it was some kind of death wish because she'd survived the Academy and no-one else had. Believed she shouldn't have. He'd touched them, running his fingertips over the raised skin, wishing he could do something to make them go away, to make them not have happened …

"They're probably not important," Simon interrupted his thoughts, then saw the exasperated look on Mal's face and threw his hands into the air. "I don't know, Mal!" he admitted. "Maybe River's right, and it isn't ink, but prayer."

"Ain't prayed in a long time, doctor."

"No, but she does. All the time. Prays to stay sane."

Mal stared at him, then slowly nodded his head. "So how do we prove this?"

"We don't," Simon said firmly. "Unless you're intending to shoot Freya and see what happens."

"Doc, there may be times I feel like doing exactly that, but the impulse wears off eventually," he sad dryly. "And I ain't gonna just for the sake of experimentation."

"No," Simon agreed, trying to look serious. "I doubt she'd take kindly to that."

"Hell, Simon, I'd be the one needing your medical expertise if I did that." Mal smiled.

"Then we just praise our good luck and hope it holds."

"Her luck, doc," Mal said. "My salvation." He turned and left the infirmary.

Simon watched him go, a contemplative look on his features. The captain may not have let Freya back into his bed, but it was only a matter of time. That was a man in love, any fool could see that. For some reason an image of Kaylee drifted into his mind, of her standing beside the engine housing, a wrench in one hand, a can of greasing agent in the other, and a smile on her face reserved only for him. Simon turned, and hurried to complete his inventory. There were better things to be doing that counting drugs.

---

**TWO WEEKS**

Mal climbed out of his quarters into the corridor, glancing towards the bridge. For a microsecond he thought it was Wash sitting in the pilot's chair, but it was only Hank, their new pilot, fiddling with something under the main console.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Mal asked, going to the bottom of the steps.

Hank grinned down at him. "I will be, soon. Just wanted to get this adjusted –" There was a spark and he yelped, pulling his fingers back and sucking on them.

"Yeah, well, you electrocute yourself, you just let me know."

"Will do, captain," Hank said around his fingers, waving with the other hand.

Mal walked towards the darkened galley, noting Kaylee's door was open, but a glance towards the empty engine room suggested that she was with Simon. Mal smiled briefly. He still wasn't sure about their romance, but it kept the young mechanic happy, and that was important.

He descended the stairs into the cargo bay, his eyes moving all the time. He often did this before turning in at night, just checking his boat was okay, that there were no final problems he had to deal with, no last minute hitches that only he could fix. At least, he'd done it since Freya had left. Something about that cold bunk just didn't call out to him like it used to.

But everything was in its place, the cages where he'd left them, the case for their EVA suits closed. He didn't know why it should be any different, but it gave him comfort. Even Jayne's weights seemed reassuring tonight.

He walked into the common area, past the infirmary, about to go back up, but paused. She was just along there. A few steps away. Not that she was ever far away now: Serenity wasn't big enough to really put some distance between two people, as he had come to realise when Kaylee and Simon were fighting. He'd throw things around in the infirmary, and she'd be bashing the hell out of some innocent piece of machinery in the engine room, but they'd make up before bed time. Always. Simon's door was closed right now, but there was mutterings and muffled laughter from inside, and he really didn't want to investigate any further.

Still, he walked past, heading towards the other rooms. Just to check everything was okay.

He placed his hand on the door, knowing she was inside, wanting her, wanting to feel soft and warm skin under his fingers, not the cold hardness of the carbonised sheeting.

"She's not asleep," River said quietly, standing close to him, like a ghost in her pale nightgown.

"She should be," Mal said, somehow not surprised. "So should you. It's late."

"She hasn't been sleeping. Tossing and turning. Like you." The young psychic turned her dark eyes on him, and he felt he could lose himself in them. "Why don't you open the door?"

"Because I wasn't the one who left, River."

"No. But you are the one who has to forgive." She looked at him, her head on one side. "She aches for you. How can you bear to know that and not help?"

"She …" Mal realised his hands were in fists, and he consciously relaxed them. "You don't understand."

"Of course I do," the girl said, almost contemptuous. "How can I not? But she won't tell you. Won't do anything that might destroy the fragile balance you have here."

"Is that what I have?" Mal asked.

"You're balanced on the edge of a precipice, and you know just one wrong step can take you down to the bottom, smashing onto the rocks, blood and entrails spread out across the stones."

Mal raised his eyebrow at her. "I conjure I know what I'll be dreaming about tonight, thanks."

A swift smile crossed her features. "She can save you."

"I don't need saving, River. Been doing okay."

"Lying doesn't help," she said, shaking her head. "Especially to me."

"No, I reckon it doesn't." He sighed, turning his back to lean on the door. "Why'd she go, River?"

"Love."

"That doesn't explain a damn thing."

"It's all the explanation there is. If she didn't love you she wouldn't have gone."

"Was it her?"

River gazed at him, not speaking.

"Was it?" he persisted. "That night, before she came back. When she told me to hang on." He put his hand on the girl's arm. "Was it her or did I just dream it?"

"Captain, even my brother doesn't know all the details of how the human brain functions, its higher levels of intracranial activity, and in particular the –" She stopped. "It was more than a dream, Mal." She used his first name, making sure he understood her full meaning. "She was coming home." She glanced at the door, knowing Freya was listening, not able to pick up the words, just the low hum of voices. "She needs you. Heal her."

"I …" Mal shook his head. "Not yet. It's too soon."

River nodded. "Don't leave it too long, captain." She gently disengaged his hand from her arm.

"Why?" Mal looked around, his heart starting to pound harder. "Is she gonna leave again?"

"No." River grinned suddenly, looking like the girl she really was. "I just don't think your bunk could take the pressure if you wait too long." She twirled and went back to her room, leaving Mal to stare at her, his lips twitching.

---

**THREE WEEKS**

Mal stepped out of shuttle two where he had been checking equipment, and walked along the gangway towards where Inara was standing, watching the game taking place below her in the cargo bay.

"Who's winning?" he asked.

"At the moment I think it's a draw." Inara laughed. "Although I think the girls might have the advantage."

Mal looked at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "It's girls versus boys?"

"Jayne's idea," Inara explained. "I think he may be regretting it about now." She pointed down and Mal followed her line of sight.

Freya was feinting around the big man, then suddenly bounced the ball between his legs, right into Zoe's hands, who tossed it accurately through the makeshift hoop hanging from a chain in the ceiling.

Freya gave a whoop of delight, while Jayne scowled. He glanced up. "Hey, Mal. Come and join in. You can take the doc's place – he's worse'n useless."

"Hey!" Simon was offended.

"Well, you ain't scored, not in the whole game," Jayne pointed out, picking the ball up from the floor.

"Fine." Simon tossed up his hands. "It's not like you play by any civilized rules anyway." He went to join Inara.

"Civilisation's a damn long way from here," Hank pointed out, leaning on his knees, trying to get air into his lungs.

Mal grinned. "That it is." He hurried down the stairs to the bay floor, pushing his sleeves further up his arms.

"Great!" Jayne said. "Maybe now we can win."

The game restarted, but it didn't go much better. Freya and Zoe worked together too well as a team, and Kaylee was fast enough to pick up any slack. After two more hoops to the opposing side, Jayne called a time-out and pulled his team into a huddle.

"Look, we got to do something. It's our dignity on the line here," he said quietly.

"What did you have in mind?" Hank asked.

"Can you keep Zoe occupied?"

Hank rolled his eyes. "I've been trying to do that ever since I came on board, but –"

"Can you keep her out of the game?" Jayne clarified, looking at the pilot with faint disgust.

"Oh. Yeah, right."

"I can mark Kaylee, if that's your plan," Mal put in, but Jayne shook his head.

"Not quite. I'll take on little Kaylee, you make sure Freya ain't getting in my way."

"Jayne –" Mal began.

"You wanna win this or not?"

Mal looked at his crew, their determination, and shrugged. "Hell, she can only kill me once."

They restarted, and Jayne proved to have been right. Hank, selflessly putting himself at risk, kept himself between Zoe and the ball, not even trying to play, while Mal did the same with Freya, watching her eyes all the time. He found he could tell when she was feinting, about to move around him, and he moved with her. She was getting annoyed, too, that was obvious.

It was working. Jayne had managed to keep the ball and scored three times, bringing the game level. This time Zoe called a time-out.

"You know what they're doing?" she said, bending forward so the menfolk couldn't hear.

"It has to be Jayne," Kaylee said, panting. She'd been doing all the running around, and her knees were killing her. "He wants to win that bad."

"Do we?"

Freya glanced across at the other players, standing in a group watching them. "I think we do. We can't let them get away with this."

"So … any suggestions?"

"Just one."

After a moment they stood up, turning to face the men.

"Ready?" Jayne called.

"More than you," Kaylee said mischievously. "Let's make this interesting."

"What kind of interesting?"

The young mechanic stepped into the centre of the bay. "All on the last ball, right?"

"Sure. But that ain't interesting."

"How about chores for the next week? We win, you do them."

"And if we win?"

"Then you don't have to clean up for a week."

"Jayne …" Mal put his hand on the big merc's arm, seeing the look in Freya's eyes. "I don't think –"

"Done!"

"I think we have been," Hank muttered.

Kaylee tossed the ball high and Jayne went for it, reaching up with his longer arms to pluck it out of the air. Except suddenly he was falling backwards as Kaylee tackled his knees. Mal, seeing this happening, tried to reach it, only to find that Freya had him around the waist and he was himself hitting the decking, rolling as he went with Freya in his arms. Hank, in a flash of self-preservation, ducked and Zoe moved past him, grabbing the ball and tossing it through the hoop.

Kaylee scrambled from Jayne's prone form and whooped delightedly, jumping up and down.

"Gorram it!" Jayne said, laying his head back on the floor, staring in to Serenity's superstructure.

Freya laughed from where she was lying under Mal.

"You okay?" he asked, not moving.

"Shiny."

"Good." He stood up and held out his hand to help her. She let him lift her to her feet. "You planned that," he said accusingly.

"Absolutely!" She grinned at him, and was immensely gratified to see his face dissolve into a smile.

"I'm not sure the bet holds," he said. "I didn't agree to anything."

"Jayne agreed. I think it's binding."

"I don't do chores. I'm captain."

She laughed again, and it warmed his heart. "I think that's something you're going to have to discuss with your team-mates," she said, putting her hand on his arm, feeling the muscle beneath the thin shirt.

"Hey, I was only a sub," he protested. "It's Simon's fault really."

"You keep me out of this!" the young doctor called, making a hasty exit.

"Maybe we should talk about this," Mal said. "Over coffee."

"That sounds good," Freya admitted, and they walked off together towards the galley, him with his arm around her shoulder in a friendly manner.

Jayne, collecting the ball from where it had finally bounced among the cages, glanced up at the catwalk, where River was standing. She smiled and he winked at her. Damn, but that girl had some good plans sometimes.


End file.
